Gift Fic for akhikaru 1/4

[stormymood]

A piece of rainbow for akhikaru  Part 1

Title: Skyward
Pairing: Jun/Sho
Rating/Warnings: NC-17. Enemies to lovers, lots of plot and worldbuilding, slow burn, sexual tension, some injuries (not life-threatening) sustained by some characters, rimming, eventual barebacking, felching. 140k words.
Summary: Exiled to his enemy’s home planet, Crown Prince Matsumoto Jun must conceal his true identity, prevent an impending war, and reclaim his throne.
Notes: For akhikaru. I tweaked your Star Wars prompt and ended up with a space opera inspired by the Captive Prince trilogy by C.S. Pacat. No need to read it; just know that when I finished it, I thought “I’m going to space!Sakumoto that shit,” so a couple of elements from there are in here. Since it’s a long read, here’s your spoiler: it ends happily. I retained the Japanese honorifics despite them speaking in made-up languages. I hope that doesn’t cause confusion in any way. Thank you to my betas who did the hard work, to my awesome cheerleaders, and to the mod for being patient. Any mistakes left are mine.


They had Jun on his knees with his wrists encased in irons by the time he found the words to speak.

“I’m your Prince,” he said, and not a single man took heed, but he would not lose hope so easily. “You will unlock these cuffs this instant and tell me what’s going on.”

They didn’t look at him. Nobody did, and not even a repetition of Jun’s words earned him a glance. His father’s royal guard, conspiring against him like this? He didn’t understand anything of what was happening. He’d been enjoying a private dinner with a suitor when they’d barged in, shot his suitor with a photon rifle and declared that the Duke of Stratos had just been murdered by the Crown Prince.

Jun had expected to die then, but they’d shoved him to his knees and merely pointed their rifles at him while one pulled his arms to his back and cuffed his wrists. His knees ached from the harsh contact with the floor, but it was negligible compared to the fear building up in him.

When she strode in, she was regal and perfect—a face Jun hadn’t seen in years.

“No,” he said, the disbelief quickly replaced by hurt in his voice. “No, not you.”

She smiled, teeth gleaming like her earrings under the light. “What’s wrong, brother?”

Jun tugged at his binds, trying to break free. “I demand to know what’s happening,” he spoke authoritatively, asserting his place in his father’s household. He wouldn’t be intimidated. This couldn’t be real. “Why am I cuffed and on my knees like a common prisoner?”

A head tilt was all he earned. “Because that’s what you are now.”

Dread crept up on him, settling at the pit of his stomach. It felt taxing just to breathe. “What are you doing? You—you abdicated.”

“The abdication is declared forfeit if something were to happen to the remaining heir,” she said matter-of-factly. “You should know your planet’s own laws.”

“I demand to see father,” Jun said. A soldier held him in place now as he struggled before repeating his request once more. It fell on seemingly deaf ears; she merely blinked at him.

“That’s odd,” she said, striding closer to him. She crouched, lowering her face on level with Jun’s, and with a long-nailed finger, tipped his chin slightly. “How can you not know what happened to him?”

Jun stared at her. Her dark eyes, the long eyelashes, the rouge on her lips. She wore jewelry on her person, but none of it had father’s crest. She had a ring on, a signet with a crest that Jun hadn’t seen for almost a decade. Hers.

“What have you done?” Jun demanded.

She studied him. “My dear brother, didn’t you know? You are charged with high treason and for the murder of the Duke of Stratos, as well as our beloved father, the good king.” She stroked his cheek lovingly. “May the stars shine upon you.”

--

Jun woke in the prison tower.

The cell was dank and desolate. The walls were made of unpolished ores and gave off the smell of rusting metal. The only entrance was a meter-thick door of the same material, dense and impenetrable. They had tossed him here after knocking him out, and Jun had woken up with a platter of prison food placed a few inches from his feet. They had at least removed the cuffs, but Jun could do nothing else save feed himself.

He didn’t know how many days had passed. Whoever knocked him out had done a stellar job at it; there was a remainder of a throbbing ache at the back of his skull. If he paid it less attention, perhaps it wouldn’t flare up into a migraine as a result of the trauma.

He looked back on the days that led to this moment. Nothing made sense. Rina was his half-sister, his father’s child from his first wife. When Jun’s mother had given birth to him, Rina had already been Crown Princess. Then she had abdicated and moved to one of the royal family’s palaces on the outer moons. She sent transmissions and emissaries as she’d handled one small galactic affair after another, but Jun hadn’t seen her since his inauguration as Heir Apparent.

Until a couple of days ago, when she’d touched his cheek tenderly and accused him of crimes he didn’t—couldn’t commit. His skin burned where her palm had been. His father was dead, his suitor too. And for all he knew, their deaths could have been made public and all the blame placed under his name.

Heat prickled at the corners of his eyes. How could Rina murder their own father? Even if she’d hired mercenaries to do it, they had been acting on her orders. She had orchestrated the murder, this entire scheme. She might be plotting Jun’s own demise the longer he remained here, and he wouldn’t see it coming.

He couldn’t hear a thing while inside the cell. It was designed to be undetectable—that was what the unpolished ores were for. The odor came with a signal-blocking capability, and any hopes Jun held for a rescue had been squashed the moment he’d realized where he was. Unless they opened that door, there’d be no way for him to leave this place.

There was no window that’d at least give him a hint if it was morning or night. They had dressed him down and left him unprepared for the cold, the tips of his toes beginning to numb. In a few hours, his teeth would chatter. Whatever his sister’s scheme was, she was keeping him alive for a reason—if the supply of food and water meant anything. He wasn’t dying, at least not at the moment.

Would she make it a spectacle? Jun already had a few ideas in mind. His execution would be the swiftest way to get rid of him if she was truly after the throne. But public executions were customs of old. He’d get a trial, and if he was found guilty of treason, his death would be in the hands of somebody else, not in the planet’s governing body.

Jun shut his eyes. If he was going to be killed, he’d be sent to the high prison in the asteroid belt of the fourth planet, the only place in the system that wasn’t influenced by any ruling body. Laws didn’t exist there, at least not the laws of Jun’s home planet. If Rina would have him killed, he’d die a nameless man, thrown amongst the worst of the outlaws in a forgotten chunk of space.

Had his father suffered the same thing? Dying in the hands of a family member and knowing it? Jun wanted answers before his death. He’d become convinced that the moment he departed this cell, it’d be because of a court summons and a trial that would never be in his favor.

The first lock untwisted, emitting a loud creak that made Jun press himself against the wall. Its uneven surface dug in his back, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t cuffed anymore, and he wouldn’t come willingly without a fight.

The second lock followed, and the doors swung open. Jun crouched on his heels and dove for it, tackling one guard to the ground and landing one blow to the man’s face before he found himself hauled off by two guards holding his arms behind his back.

Rina stared at him, amused. “I see you don’t like your new chambers.”

“How did he die?” Jun asked, teeth gritting in rage. He tried to squirm free, but the guard he’d punched stood on his feet and backhanded him. Jun spat in his face and earned himself another slap, this time to the other cheek.

“That’s enough,” Rina said. The guard obeyed, stepping back, but not before giving Jun a look that indicated this wasn’t over. “I need him to look undamaged. If I find a bruise on his skin, I’ll make sure you receive a corresponding mirror to it.”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” the guard said, not looking at Jun anymore.

Jun lifted his head once more, ignoring the sting on his cheeks. “How did he die?”

“Peacefully,” Rina said. “You don’t believe me. I can see it on your face.”

“You murdered him. Our father,” Jun said.

She merely blinked. “Whether you believe me or not doesn’t make a difference. He’s dead.”

“And soon I will be, too?” Jun managed a smile, and he hoped it was as mocking as he’d intended. “You’re not that creative.”

Her perfectly groomed eyebrows arched in amusement. “That’s a funny thing to say. Pray tell, brother, what did you deduce will happen to you while you waited here?”

“Does it matter? You’ll have me dead soon enough.”

She smiled. “Did you think you’d get a trial in front of the court and the council and be charged with high treason and found guilty? That you’d be sent to the high prison for a commoner’s execution?” Her lips twitched when Jun’s eyes widened. “You’re not that creative.”

Jun felt colder, the tendrils of fear creeping up on him. He struggled against the hold on him, all to no avail. These men were battle-hardened and bigger than him. He could tell he’d bruise on the parts of his skin where their hands were. “What are you planning?”

She approached him, and Jun could see their superficial resemblance. Same eyes, same nose, same facial contour. “I came here to bid you goodbye, since that was something I was never able to tell father.” She gripped his chin and tilted his face side-to-side to examine his cheeks. She was unaffected by Jun resisting. “Farewell, brother. We will never see each other again.”

“Kill me,” Jun said as she stepped back and nodded to the men holding him. “Kill me like you killed him, like how you had them all killed.”

“No,” she said firmly. “That’d be quick and easy. Cowardly. You deserve more than that, Jun, and do you know why?”

Jun waited, eyes fixed on her as the guards began dragging him away.

“I wouldn’t have done any of this if it weren’t for you.”

--

They knocked him out after that, and what Jun could recall were only flashes and snippets of conversation he couldn’t make sense of. The next time he woke, he was in a dark, cramped space with other people in a cargo hold that smelled of something pungent.

He was in some kind of a spacecraft, its hinges creaking with each turbulent movement.

“Oh good, you’re up,” the man across from him said. Jun noticed that the man was chained to the wall and he tugged at his arms, finding himself in a similar situation. “Did you defect too?”

Jun blinked in confusion. “Where am I?”

“Come now, you know where you are,” the man said. “No need for embarrassment when we’re all accused of similar things.”

Accused? Jun had only been accused of high treason and he was innocent of it. He looked around and saw that he was chained to the wall along with four other men. Two of them were asleep. Both looked older than Jun. The other didn’t seem to speak their language, and judging from his clothing he looked more like a pirate from the outer rim than a native of Jun’s planet.

The man in front of him, meanwhile, spoke his language and wore the clothes of a trader pilot.

“Where are we?” Jun asked.

He was definitely in a spaceship, but the filthy surroundings like this only existed for certain kinds of ship.

He felt his stomach drop. Did Rina put him in a slaver’s ship? Or was he sold to pirates to be delivered as human cargo? How far did she go?

The man in front of him blinked. Twice.

“You truly don’t know,” he said, sounding convinced. Jun only looked at him, waiting for an answer. “We’re in a ship.”

“Yes, I figured out that much,” Jun said. “Where are we going?”

“They’re defectors,” the man told him. He inclined his head to his right, to the direction of the two sleeping men Jun had noticed earlier. “Those two were pilots for the Denebian army, but they defected before they reached the base. Got caught.”

“You’re fighter pilots?” Jun asked.

The man scoffed. “Not me. I said them. Do I look like a fighter pilot?”

“No. You’re dressed in merchant clothing.” Jun’s eyes narrowed. “Are you a trader or are you masquerading as one?”

The man smiled. “You’re a clever one.” The man tilted his chin at him. “You’re not dressed like a trader or a soldier, and you seem smart enough to not be where you are.” Jun braced himself. “What did you do?”

“You haven’t answered any of my questions,” was what Jun said instead.

They exchanged a look for several moments, until an understanding fell between them.

“I’m not really a trader,” the man said, finally. “But I do deal with money.”

“Pirate?”

The corner of the man’s mouth quirked. “You’re looking at the wrong man.” He tilted his chin to the person on Jun’s left, and Jun knew he was correct in his assumptions earlier. “I’m a swindler.”

Jun’s throat felt dry. Rina had tossed him in with criminals. Men who would rob him and slit his throat without a second thought. He was aware he looked nothing like them. He’d been dressed down and he looked as much as any civilian found in his planet, but he was certain none of his features showed any of the supposed experience these men around him possessed. He looked nothing like a pilot who had attempted to run away from the law.

“Does that scare you?” the man asked.

Jun tried to cover for his miss by shaking his head. “If you’re a swindler and you got caught, I’d say you weren’t a very good swindler.”

“Or I tried to swindle the people who were after me because of a false tip,” the man said. “Tried to run and got caught, and now I’m stuck here with this lot and you.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re not one of us, are you?”

Jun could never reveal who he had been. Everyone on his planet probably assumed that he’d died in whatever circumstance Rina had decided to make them believe. It wasn’t as if they had a choice. They weren’t too different from Jun in that aspect, except that Jun knew the truth. But what good would knowing the truth do if he’d been sent so far away that his existence might as well have been erased?

“I’m a pilot,” Jun said. It wasn’t a lie; he had to learn how to fly a ship on his own. He even had a personal one, smaller than the flagship of the royal family. He used to take it as far as the fourth moon of their planet to observe the constant meteor showers there.

The man’s eyebrow arched in obvious doubt. “A pilot,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

“And why are you here, pilot?”

Jun wracked his brains for similar cases he’d heard in court. Once a month, his father had held court and listened to the concerns of their people, and that had included passing on sentences to guilty outlaws. “My license was revoked and yet I still operated.”

The man hummed in consideration. “Operated in what?”

Jun shrugged, hoping it was convincing. He wasn’t much of an actor. That was Rina, that had always been Rina. “Liquor.”

To Jun’s surprise, the man smiled. “Now that’s something I like. Lots of money, you know? Nevermind the currency; people would pay hard money for hard liquor. Did you deal with the hard stuff? The illegal ones from past the outer rim?”

“Yes,” Jun said, because he couldn’t say anything else. “I was caught with fifty bottles of Velori rum in my cargo hold.”

“Nasty stuff,” the man said with a snort. “Though with that face, I’m sure you were able to sell your cargo for so much more back in your prime.”

Compliments regarding his looks were things Jun had heard often, mostly from his suitors. As Crown Prince, there’d been suitors flocking to the palace after his inauguration, all of them hopeful to become the High Consort Presumptive. He’d heard all kinds of praises and sweet words and had fallen for none.

He had no reaction save for a shrug. “Not good enough since I’m here.” His eyes narrowed. “Where is this ship taking us?”

“To where pilots are needed with their backgrounds mostly unchecked,” the man said.

Jun stared at the man, hoping to find a trace of a lie in his features. There was none.

“No,” he said in disbelief. “I’m a Saiphan.”

“Yes, I noticed that from your clothes,” the man said.

“I’m a Saiphan, and you’re telling me we’re going to Hamal?”

The man gave him another smile, this one almost sympathetic. “Shame you no longer have your liquor stock with you. Would have convinced them not to be too hard on you.”

Jun closed his eyes. Rina had him sent to Hamal, the one star system whose royal family hated Jun’s the most because of the abduction of their Empress Apparent by Jun’s great-great grandfather. They had eloped, and his great-great grandfather had brought the princess to his home. The Empress of Hamal had decreed that all business with Saiph would be stopped unless her daughter returned, but it had never happened. Jun’s great-great grandmother stayed as queen of Saiph, severing all ties with her family. She also had the Saiphan army help her reclaim the assets in her name, a few habitable moons that were now part of Saiph’s territory.

Blood had been spilled in order to achieve that, and Hamal never forgot.

Hamal had restricted any visits or any form of communication with Saiph, and any of Saiph’s attempts to make amends had been turned away or ignored.

It was a known fact in every galaxy. The Hamali were people who hated Jun’s the most, their transgression never forgotten despite the decades that passed. To have him sent there, knowing full well that his clothes would give him away…

How far did Rina’s cruelty go? Whatever did Jun do to make her loathe him this much?

He opened his eyes and found the man staring at him.

“You think they’ll beat you up,” the man concluded.

“I’m not terrified of being punched or kicked,” Jun said. He’d been trained to protect himself despite having bodyguards following him since he’d been able to walk on his own.

The man nodded. “All right. But you don’t believe they’ll stop there.”

“They hate us,” Jun said. He was certain he’d suffer; that was Rina’s intention. Killing him would have disappointed her. He remembered something, and he faced the man once more. “You said they needed pilots.”

“Yes,” the man said.

“Why?”

“Why else?” The man shrugged. “Hamal is getting ready for war.”

--

Hamal was named after its brightest sun in its constellation, the only planet revolving around said star. As a planet, it was composed of waters and rocky cliffs made of lime- and sandstone. The royal palace was, to Jun’s knowledge, completely different from his own. Saiph had a floating city for its capital, the royal palace at the center of it. Hamal’s royal palace was situated atop a high cliff, overlooking a vast sea. Green was not a common sight on the planet save for the color of its seas; the primary source of living was the mining of precious metals and unpolished ores. The very same ores that had surrounded Jun not too long ago. If the people of Hamal eventually had him working in one of their mines, the irony wouldn’t be lost on him.

The port of Hamal was not a massive aerodome behind a signal-barring gate similar to Saiph’s. Jun’s home planet had more resources—farming, cattle, and nearly all kinds of marine life found in the star system. Saiph had a flourishing global market trading economy, unlike Hamal, which merely relied on what their people could obtain from the tunneling caves under their cliffs. In economical terms, Saiph had the money and the resources to fund a war.

Jun could only stare at the man in front of him, an unreadable expression on his face. “War? War against whom?”

The man merely eyed him, and Jun knew. He’d known. He’d simply wanted to hear it for himself.

“Who is funding this war?” he asked next. An intergalactic war between Saiph and Hamal was what his father had been trying to prevent. Before Jun’s ascension, the rumors had been circulating already. His father had sent emissaries to parley with Hamal, and to Jun’s knowledge, none of them had returned successful. “The Hamali don’t have the money to sustain a war with my home planet. The scale is too great for them to imagine.”

“Who cares if they have the money or not? They certainly intend to have the manpower, if they’re desperate enough to have outlaws pilot their ships.” The man shrugged. “Maybe they all think it’s the same, you know?” He gestured to the Denebian men to Jun’s far right. “Those two have no problem since they’re used to fighter ships, but us? We’re traders.”

“I am,” Jun said. “You’re not.”

The man smiled. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t anyone about what I’m really in for.”

To Jun, this man’s appreciation was unnecessary. Whoever was making the delivery of pilots to a potential war zone likely had information on each of his cargo. Jun could only hope Rina hadn’t gone too far and declared him as the Crown Prince of Saiph.

“Would you do the same for me?” Jun asked, just as their ship landed and came to a full stop. The metal around them creaked from lack of oil on the gears and from overuse, but the ship miraculously held on despite the rough landing.

“I would have,” the man answered. Jun could hear footsteps above him; their handlers seemed to be getting ready to unload their cargo. “Had you told me the truth.”

Jun’s eyes widened before he recovered, and he leaned forward as far as he could. “What are you asking for? I won’t tell anyone what you just told me; I don’t even know if any of it is true.”

“I’ll tell you something you know to be true,” the man said, leaning closer as far as his chains allowed him. “You’re not a trader. Had you’ve been caught with fifty bottles of Velori rum like you said, you wouldn’t be here; you’d be one of them.” He looked up, gesturing to where the handlers were, at the floor above them. “You’ve never smelled Velori rum in your life, have you? This cargo hold reeks of it. I’d say before they chucked us in here, they had to make another kind of delivery first.”

Jun could tell that the color had drained from his face. “What do you want from me?”

The man blinked in thought. “Nothing. Just don’t get in my way.”

“You won’t tell them?” Jun asked. Their handlers were coming; he could hear them speaking in broken Hamali, and soon, the latch would be opened and they’d be released one-by-one.

“Why should I bother?” the man asked back. “You can tell them your pitiful lie yourself or you can come up with a better one the moment they turn us in for questioning and verification.” He smiled, appearing rather mischievous under the intermittently blinking overhead light. “Provided it matches the files on hand, of course.”

Jun was in bigger trouble than he’d initially thought. He had no idea what his papers said about him. Unlike the man before him, if he’d been lying to Jun, he still knew what was on record regarding his transgressions.

He looked straight at the man, who was watching him curiously.

“Help me,” he said quietly. There was nothing else for him to do.

The man blinked. It was the first time Jun had seen something akin to surprise on his face. “That’s interesting.”

“I mean it,” Jun said. “Help me.”

“We’re both in chains.” The man tugged at his wrists to prove his point. “How can I help you? We’re both human cargo in this situation and you know that.”

“I don’t know,” Jun admitted. “I don’t know anything—why I’m here, why a war is happening when it shouldn’t. But I do know I won’t survive out there for two seconds unless you help me.”

The man appeared to consider it. “What’s in it for me? I have no love for Saiph; it was your military that caught up with me and put me in here. One Saiphan bound to die in the hands of the Hamali means nothing to me.”

“You’re right,” Jun said. “It doesn’t concern you. But I’m asking anyway.”

“Why?”

“Because you could’ve dismissed me the moment I asked for aid, and you haven’t.”

To Jun’s bewilderment, the man straightened up and smiled, the kind that almost convinced Jun that he had been telling the truth when he’d declared himself a swindler. “You’re an amusing one.”

They heard the lock turn, and Jun watched as the hatch opened slowly. He could see boots from the other side, and as the door rose, Jun saw that they carried guns.

These weren’t Hamali soldiers. They didn’t wear uniforms and had no badges that had the crest of the Empire. At best, they were mercenaries or guerillas, operating in stealth. Jun couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

“This is your cargo?” one man who seemed to be the leader asked the handler. Jun could tell the handlers had come from the outer rim, taking up jobs that nobody had wanted. People from the outer rim dressed in the same fashion: tattered cloaks over their heads, leather gloves that ran up to their forearms.

“Yes,” the handler answered.

“Six men?” the leader asked in Hamali. He seemed outraged. “You promised me ten, at least.”

“Trouble getting past the gate,” the handler said in broken Hamali. His accent was off, and to Jun, he sounded like he was completely lying.

The leader hummed before pulling out a phaser, and Jun’s breath caught. In his periphery, he saw the other men with him watching the scene calmly. The man from across him was watching him and not what was about to happen.

Jun faced the man. Whoever asked for pilots wasn’t getting his money’s worth, and this leader might kill them all in retaliation.

“You speak Hamali, don’t you?” the man whispered to him.

Jun nodded.

“Are we going to die?”

“Not yet,” Jun murmured. He looked back to the opened hatch and found the handler held in the collar of his tunic by the leader. “We might be, soon. They were expecting ten men.”

“All right, I’ll help you,” the man said. Jun stared at him. “But only if you do as I say and keep the questions to yourself. I can’t speak Hamali, and because of that, I need you.”

Jun was grateful he had the expensive tutoring that he’d endured in his youth. He was nowhere near a silver tongue, but he spoke more languages than the average civilian. Had he not been royalty, he’d perhaps pass for a scholar in Saiph.

He gave the man a nod and turned his eyes back to the hatch.

“I’m telling you, trouble at the gate!” the handler was saying in Hamali, the phaser tip pressed to his cheek.

“If you had trouble getting past the gate like you said, you wouldn’t be here in the first place,” the leader pointed out before shoving the handler back, not caring if he hit the metal frames of the hatch. “Get this fool out of my sight.”

The men behind him obeyed without a word, dragging the handler away. The leader pinched his nasal bridge before he straightened and fished out a pad from under his robes. The ones he wore flowed and he lacked gloves. Jun could only see that he wore a tunic underneath and breeches that had seen better days, tucked inside his battered boots.

He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He was lanky in build, perhaps of the same height as Jun, and he was frowning at his pad like he didn’t know how to make it work.

Jun barely suppressed his flinch when the man slammed his pad against the nearest metal frame.

“This thing doesn’t work anymore,” he complained.

“You should probably get yourself a new one,” a man behind him suggested. They all spoke like natives, and Jun settled for listening in without being too obvious about it. If anything, he was probably the only man out of the six who could understand what the people about to retrieve them were saying.

“I can’t,” the leader said. “I made this myself.”

The man behind him laughed. “Ah, that’s why it doesn’t work.”

“Shut your mouth,” the leader said in a voice that seemed close to smiling. “There we go. The prisoner roster. Let’s see who we have here.”

Jun looked in front of him, finding the same man watching him. “They’re reviewing our profiles.”

“Are they?” he asked with a smile. Then, in a louder voice, he said, “I’m hungry!”

Jun stared at him, at the obvious way he was attracting attention to himself.

The leader turned to their direction and approached with a frown. “What was that?” he asked in the common tongue when his back was to Jun. His accent was off, like he rarely stepped foot outside his home planet.

“I’m hungry, I said,” the man answered. “How long is this going to take? My wrists are aching too; I’ve been strung up here for hours.”

“Did you think you were going to be dropped off to a pleasure planetoid?” the leader asked.

Jun’s new friend stared at the leader from head to foot then back up. “I don’t know, but you sure don’t look like a pleasure worker. You look like you haven’t gotten laid in years. Or the type that only got coin if all the other workers were occupied.”

That made the men around Jun snicker, including the leader’s companions. The leader shot them all a glare which made them shut up and lower their heads.

The leader looked down his pad before lifting his gaze once more. “Says here you’re a swindler.” Then he straightened. “I know your name.”

Jun didn’t expect the man had been telling the truth. And from the looks of it, he seemed to be a big shot too, if the leader’s reaction meant anything.

“How,” the leader said, “pray tell, did they manage to capture you and chuck you in this derelict of a ship, Ninomiya Kazunari?”

The name registered. No one had been able to take a good photo of him in his bounty posters, and he had longer hair and an unshaven face so Jun hadn’t recognized him. But Jun knew him, or rather, his reputation.

Ninomiya looked bored. “False tip.”

That earned the leader’s laugh. “Is that right? The high prison wanted you so bad, they raised your bounty a few credits more. I should consider turning you over to them.”

“You won’t though,” Ninomiya said with confidence that Jun had no idea what was the source of. “Because if you do, that’s another man short. From your original count of ten, you’re already missing four. Surrender me, that’ll be five.”

“I can do the math on my own,” the leader snapped.

Ninomiya didn’t seem affected. “Can you?” He smiled, the same lazy one he’d been flashing Jun awhile ago. “Now, tell me, is the bounty worth what you’ll get in exchange from your superior, whoever that may be?”

“Shut up,” the leader said, and he gestured to his men. “Gag this one. He’s too smart. The next thing you know you lot will be handing over to him all assets under your name after only a few words from him.”

“I’m honored you think I’m that good,” Ninomiya said.

The men moved, but the leader stopped and faced Ninomiya once more. “Wait. How did you know we were expecting ten men? You speak Hamali?”

Ninomiya was smirking. “Not me.”

And then Ninomiya looked at Jun, which made the leader focus on Jun as he flicked his finger over the pad in his hands. Jun braced himself, watching cautiously as the man scrolled through the profiles of the men handed to him. He looked up and saw Ninomiya attempting to bite off the hand of one man before another managed to successfully slip the gag on him, rendering him silent.

Jun was on his own. He understood Hamali, but he didn’t know how far it would take him.

“That’s funny,” the leader said in Hamali when he seemed to have skimmed through Jun’s profile. Jun could only see a photo of him at a corner, undoubtedly staged so he’d appear as a repeat offender, an outlaw. The leader’s eyes narrowed at him. “With your name alone, he’d have a field day with you.”

Jun couldn’t say a word, afraid that it’d give him away. Of course Rina hadn’t bothered to change his name. It must’ve amused her endlessly to deliver a man into their enemy’s lands, knowing that his name alone would grab the attention of whoever handled him.

“Unless you’re him?” the leader asked, and Jun willed himself not to react. He tried to mimic Ninomiya’s bored look. If he gave himself away, he’d be done for. “But then again, they say he’s dead.”

“Dead?” Jun repeated as emotionlessly as he could.

“How many people remarked on you sharing the name of the Crown Prince of Saiph?” the leader asked. “Or should I say former Crown Prince? You must have heard that all your life.”

“Many,” Jun said. He decided to stick with one-worded answers. The more he said, the more they could be used against him.

“They say he’s dead, that he fled from justice and was shot on the run by his personal guard,” the leader told him. “Others say he was thrown in exile, but there are those who believe that he’s on his way to the high prison for execution. What do you believe in?”

Jun chose his words carefully. “He’s dead.”

It wasn’t far from the truth. Crown Prince Jun of Saiph had died in that dank, underground cell at the lowest level of the prison tower. He’d been dead the moment they’d had him on his knees. He’d been dead the moment he’d reunited with Rina.

“Pity,” the leader said. “He would’ve wanted to meet him, you know? To speak with man-to-man, not as man-to-king.”

“What? Who?” Jun asked.

The leader smiled. It was a toothy grin, like something truly amused him. “Says here you’re a traitor.” He was looking at his pad, and Jun could imagine how all of this must’ve delighted Rina. “That you’re a deserter.”

“I’m no different from those two,” Jun said, tilting his head to the Denebians on his right. “Why else would all of us be stuck in the same cargo hold?”

“If you rattle off like Ninomiya, you’re getting gagged too,” the leader warned. “On second thought,” he said, gesturing to his men, “gag this one as well. Be careful of what you say: in case it didn’t get into your heads earlier, this one understands us.”

“I won’t cause trouble,” Jun said. He’d never been fond of being restrained.

“You already have,” the leader told him, moving to the person beside him. Just before his men managed to gag Jun, he finished his thought. “If you haven’t, how else did you get here?”

--

The Hamali spaceport was connected to a tunnel that Jun had to walk with Ninomiya chained by his side. They were arranged side-to-side, surrounded by men on both sides who constantly took the opportunity to nudge them with their heavy guns and phasers in case they walked too slow for their liking. Jun supposed he better get used to the rough handling.

On the other side of the tunnel was a biting cold, the hissing rush of unrepentant winter. From the looks of their surroundings, snow must have only begun to fall a few days before their arrival. The men leading them didn’t look affected; they were accustomed to the weather. But for Jun, who hailed from a planet that never saw winter, the cold was almost too much.

“Too much for your delicate skin?” the man beside him asked before nudging him with his phaser. “You Saiphans are so fragile. No Saiphan defector could possibly survive here.”

Jun thought if he lived, he’d not only prove these men wrong but also Rina who had sentenced him to die as an unknown man.

Jun couldn’t say a word in response and he merely looked on, wishing he’d been provided with thicker boots. The ground wasn’t heavily buried in snow, but the wind was unforgiving and seeping through Jun’s thin and cheap clothing. He could feel gooseflesh sprouting from where the wind had kissed his skin.

He trudged onward, up a hill that overlooked the spaceport. There were domes atop the hill, a makeshift military camp of sorts. But the clearing was surrounded by a withering wall of unpolished ore, and the sight of it had confirmed Jun’s earlier assumptions. These men were working in stealth, protected by signal-blocking minerals as they went about their business. There were dozens of ships parked down the hill, and Jun realized he’d walked past them without recognizing them for what they were.

They kept walking. Night was falling, and looking up revealed unfamiliar constellations. Hamal only had one moon, and it emitted a faint glow behind a thickening formation of clouds. The moon served as their only light until they reached the entrance of the camp. He vaguely heard conversations before they were permitted entry; they’d placed Jun at the back of the line because he understood their language.

“The less this one knows,” the leader had said, pointing to him, “the better for us.”

The camp didn’t look like much of a camp, which Jun supposed was the intention behind its design. There were a dozen domes which all appeared identical, and if there was indeed an armory in here somewhere, they made sure outsiders wouldn’t be able to locate it so easily. The domes were evenly spaced, arranged neatly in a semi-circle around a larger dome. If Jun were to venture a guess, that was where the leader was taking them to report to his superior.

The leader stopped in the middle of the road and faced his men. “Get Ninomiya and his silver tongue of a friend here, as well as the Denebian defectors. Put the pirates at the end of the line.”

The men murmured their assent, and Jun was shoved forward. He threw a glare to the man who kept nudging him with his phaser and saw him smirk and return his gaze, as if daring him to do something about it.

The leader looked at Ninomiya. “If I tell him we have you, he might be less angry to deal with,” he said in the common tongue.

Jun saw Ninomiya trying to smirk through the gag. What he said next came out garbled, but Jun could make sense of it.

The leader couldn’t. He looked at Jun, and with a nod to one of his men, ordered Jun’s gag to be removed. Jun relaxed his jaw the moment it was off, moistening his drying lips. His teeth were close to chattering if they didn’t enter a dome in the next moment.

“What did he say?” the leader asked him, this time in Hamali.

Jun shot a glance at Ninomiya, who kept the smile on his face. “He said, ‘Shall we tell your superior the part where you threatened to surrender me to the high prison? Would that make him angrier?’”

The leader said nothing but in the next moment, Ninomiya’s head was flying to the side. One of the men had jammed the butt of his phaser into his cheek for his audacity. The leader shook his head once, and the man backed off.

Ninomiya straightened once more and attempted to flash the same self-satisfied smirk.

“Don’t remove that gag until he says so,” the leader told his men, who all nodded. Jun’s gag was slipped back on, and they proceeded to enter the largest dome in the camp.

The doors swooshed open after the leader provided identification to the console. What was revealed behind the doors was nothing different from a base. There were star charts predicting trajectories and star maps in pads that were scattered on top of desks. There was a disassembled plasma gun on one corner, and there were notes and observations attached to each part that was removed. Ahead, there was a hologram of a blueprint of the gates of Saiph—the only reminder of home now that Jun was so far from it.

“You’re late,” a voice said. He stood behind the hologram, his face hidden from view by intersecting lines and sharp angles of blue and white.

“The ship was late,” the leader said. “We’ve been waiting for the drop-off since morning.”

“For the wrong drop-off, I’d say,” the voice said. “You’re not bringing in ten men.”

“The handlers delivered the wrong information,” the leader said. He tilted his head, and Jun found himself getting shoved forward along with Ninomiya. “We only got six men, but among the six was this one.”

“Which one, the Saiphan or the smaller one next to him?” the voice asked. Jun noted that he’d said Saiphan with great distaste.

Here was Jun’s first enemy, someone with obvious hatred for his planet and its inhabitants. If this man ordered him killed out of hate, no one would even call it out. Instead it would be treated as justice served.

“The smaller one. This is Ninomiya Kazunari.”

Jun heard a hum pass the floating image of the gates. “And how reliable is that information? You claimed, Aiba-chan, that the handlers gave you the wrong information. This could be a pickpocket from the sewers of Tauri posing as the most wanted swindler in the galaxy.”

The leader—Aiba bristled. “He answered to Ninomiya.” Aiba was simple-minded and honest, and Jun could see him tapping his foot in a nervous gesture. “I checked their profiles. They all clicked. The number we were promised was the only thing that didn’t.”

“Is that so.” Jun heard movement, and the hologram was turned off. What he saw past it made him wish they’d turn it back on.

No. It couldn’t be him. How did Rina find a way to send him to this man, the man whom his father, a renowned diplomat, had found so distasteful to speak to that he’d never allowed Jun to have a similar experience? If anything, this was the one person in the galaxy who hated Jun’s bloodline the most; the abduction of their Crown Princess had dealt them a blow they’d never recovered from, and the planet was sent to the dwindling economy that it suffered from now.

Jun never imagined that the day he’d find himself standing before Emperor Apparent Sho would also be the day he’d been imprisoned, chucked in with criminals, and gagged.

“And this one?” Sho asked, lifting a curious eyebrow at him. “Assuming this is Ninomiya, who is this? Ninomiya’s apprentice?” His eyes narrowed in thought. Jun had only seen him in holograms before this. Sho was only slightly shorter than him but smaller in build. He had unruly eyebrows and a button nose, with eyes that appeared too calculating. He was dressed in similar clothing to Aiba minus the cloak, but upon closer inspection, Jun noticed that Sho’s clothes were made of finer material. There was a ring on his finger that had his family’s crest—a clear indication of his status. “I don’t see why he is gagged unless he poses a similar threat to Ninomiya.”

“He can speak Hamali,” Aiba said. Jun saw Sho consider that information. “Fluently. Like a native.”

“I know what fluently means,” Sho said dismissively. He nodded to the man who’d kept nudging Jun from earlier. “Remove the gag.”

“Highness, this one might be acting with Ninomiya,” the man warned. “If we remove the gag and they’re conspiring, Ninomiya might—”

“Remove the gag, soldier, or I’ll see it put on you the next time you refuse to follow a direct command,” Sho said.

The man straightened at that and mumbled a quick apology before doing as he was told. The momentary relief was overshadowed by fear; Sho was studying his face. They’d never met, but Jun was certain that if one person in this camp knew his face, it was Sakurai Sho and his entire bloodline.

“What’s his name, Aiba-chan?” Sho asked.

“He shares a name with the dead Crown Prince, Matsumoto Jun,” Aiba said.

“Does he?” Sho asked, his tone flat. “And how did you know Crown Prince Jun is dead?”

“He told me,” Aiba said.

Sho faced Jun. “Is that true?”

“Which part?” Jun asked. He heard movement, and he was aware that the men surrounding them tightened their grip on their guns. He’d just spoken to the Emperor Apparent as if they were equals. Men loyal to Sho had undoubtedly taken offense.

“The name first, followed by the news you brought. Well?” Sho asked, unaffected by Jun’s cheek. Jun couldn’t pick up anything from his tone. It was nothing different from Ninomiya’s disinterested voice from earlier.

“It’s all true,” Jun said.

“How did he die?” Sho asked.

“He didn’t see it coming,” Jun said, which was the truth. He felt Sho study him.

“So Saiph is now ruled by a usurper and a possible murderess,” Sho said. “How fitting for a planet of thieves, schemers, and broken promises.”

Jun kept his temper in check. He focused on the conversation so far, the exchange of words he’d just had with Sho. Was it possible Sho hadn’t recognized him? From what Jun remembered, his father had dealt with all the attempts at parley with Hamal. His face would only be known by the Hamali through records and news, and his father had valued privacy. Any hologram of Jun in circulation would have to be from when he’d been inaugurated as Heir Apparent, which had been thirteen years ago.

He could recall how he’d looked like at twenty, twenty-one. He’d been thin and bony, the royal garb dwarfing him despite being tailored for him. He had hair that went past his shoulders, and he looked so much like Rina at first glance.

He had shorter hair now, and he was slightly larger in build compared to Sho. Gone was the pale, frail-looking prince from more than a decade ago.

He searched Sho’s eyes for any confirmation of his identity but came up short. He’d only been in Sho’s presence for minutes. If he had his guard up, surely Sho had his, too, despite manning an entire base by himself.

“Nothing to say?” Sho asked. “I thought Saiphans were loyal to the royal family.”

“Not when the royal family sent me here,” Jun said. It was another truth.

Sho extended a hand to Aiba, and Aiba handed over his pad. “You should replace this,” Sho said, flicking through files. “It takes a while for the information to load. Doesn’t that inconvenience you?”

“It does,” Aiba said. “But I’m attached to that, Highness. I made it myself.”

“Then make yourself another one,” Sho told him. “We have better materials now. The shipment from Arietis has finally arrived.”

That sent a ripple of relief through the men. Jun only knew of Arietis as one of the biggest mining cities of Hamal. If one of those mining cities was working hand-in-hand with Sho, it was possible that Ninomiya had been correct in his assumption that Hamal was preparing for war.

Jun looked at Sho and found Sho staring at him.

“Your profile says you’re a traitor,” Sho said. “A deserter and a traitor. Not surprising since you’re a Saiphan. Every inhabitant of that planet has the same inclinations.” Sho faced him once more. “What made you run?”

“I didn’t run,” Jun said before he could help it. He’d accept any accusations, except for being a coward. He’d rather die than be branded as one.

“How did they catch and deliver you to a ship that is falling apart so quickly it barely made the hyperspace jump here in one piece?”

“I made an enemy of the royal family.” It was the only thing he could think of. “This was my punishment. Serving among men who are like me.”

Sho regarded him. “I need men with experience. You don’t seem to fall under that.” He circled Jun and Jun stilled when he felt Sho’s fingers on his palms behind his back. His wrists were still in chains, but he closed his hands to a fist on reflex. “Your hands don’t have calluses.”

“Surely you’ve heard of gloves? Or do they not exist here?” Jun asked. It earned him the butt of a phaser, nothing too different from Ninomiya. In the corner of his eye, he caught Ninomiya’s shoulders shaking in amusement. “Wouldn’t be surprising since this is almost a backwater planet.”

The man on his side lifted his weapon again, but Jun caught Sho shaking his head, causing the man to reluctantly lower it.

“That’s enough, soldier,” Sho said. “If taunts as juvenile as that are all it takes to rile you up, perhaps you’re all unfit for the war to come.” He gave a nod, and two men held Jun as one slipped the gag back on to him. “Nobody removes the gag on this one unless I say so.”

“Yes, Highness,” Aiba said. Then he blinked. “How will he eat?”

“If he behaves, he can eat,” Sho said. He stepped in front of Ninomiya, did a quick scan of Ninomiya’s information on the pad, and turned all of his attention to the man before him. “Remove the gag.”

The man beside Ninomiya did, and Ninomiya took a few seconds of flexing and relaxing his jaw. Then he met Sho’s eyes and smiled.

“Didn’t think I’d meet an emperor-to-be,” Ninomiya said in common tongue.

“Didn’t think I’d meet a renowned outlaw,” Sho replied in common tongue. He spoke with evident ease, the syllables rolling swiftly on his tongue. He seemed better at speaking compared to Jun. “How did you get captured? You’re an enemy of all royal families out there, even mine.”

“Except I never dealt with you Hamali because you have no money to give,” Ninomiya said. The only reason he hadn’t earned a slap for that was that nobody understood what he was saying, save for Jun, Sho, and Aiba.

Aiba, who’d taken offense but stood down at the slightest shake of Sho’s head.

“Or so I thought,” Ninomiya continued. “Expanding your horizons, future emperor? Funding a war? Do you plan to be a conqueror?”

Sho hummed. “How good are you at flying?”

Ninomiya smiled at the obvious disregard for his questions and taunts. “Better than this goon on your payroll that you put beside me, I’d wager. Bet you I’m even better than him at shooting a plasma gun and actually hitting the target.”

“Only a fool would hand you a gun, Ninomiya,” Aiba said. At Sho lifting a hand, he bowed. “Apologies, Highness. But this is why I had him gagged.”

“Doesn’t explain why you had the enemy of the royalty gagged as well,” Sho pointed out, not giving Jun a glance. “Unless they’re working together.” He looked at Ninomiya. “Are you?”

Ninomiya shrugged. “Does it matter? His tongue is the only good thing about him, and that wasn’t enough to save him.”

“Save him? A curious notion,” Sho said. “Enlighten me.”

Ninomiya stared at Sho, and Jun saw the first trace of skepticism in Ninomiya. Like Jun, Ninomiya had no idea what worked in the machineries of Sho’s mind. To the unwitting observer, Emperor Apparent Sho knew the right words to say at the right time. But there was something behind his words, because like Jun, he must have been trained to not give anything away in front of an enemy, to choose his words carefully.

“He’s here,” Ninomiya said. “Doesn’t matter that he can speak your tongue and all other tongues in different star systems—he’s chained and gagged just like me. If we’re working together, wouldn’t you say our scheme has marvelously failed?”

Sho said no more, appearing deep in thought. The next time he spoke, he directed it to Aiba after nodding to a soldier who had fastened Ninomiya’s gag back into place. “I want these two imprisoned together but separated from the rest,” he said in Hamali.

“Matsumoto and Ninomiya?” Aiba asked. Sho nodded. “Why? Beg pardon, Highness, but wouldn’t it be better if they were kept separate? What if they are indeed accomplices?”

“Accomplices or not, they can’t communicate unless you remove the gags,” Sho pointed out.

He seemed amused as he added, “Let’s see what the swindler and the enemy of the royalty can do when they can’t talk their way out of a problem.”

--

Emperor Apparent Sho’s definition of a problem was holding Jun and Ninomiya in a dark, dank, and dirty cell surrounded by unpolished ores. The ceiling was ten feet high, the corner equipped with what seemed to be a surveillance camera. There was a rusting steel door about a foot thick that separated them from the rest of the camp. Whether their companions had been placed in similar cages or given leave to familiarize themselves in their new surroundings, Jun had no idea.

The gags were still on. Aiba and his men at least had the decency to bind their hands in front of them, and Jun thought he’d seen something close to an apology in Aiba’s eyes as he’d locked the iron cuffs back in place. Jun had already spent the first hour of being stuck in this cell by tinkering with the gag around his mouth. It had a locking mechanism that would only open with the proper authentication, and it had taken Jun multiple tries before he’d eventually given up and taken a seat in the corner.

The walls were the only sources of relief. Unlike Saiph’s dungeons, the ores hadn’t been stacked on top of the other. They had instead been hammered into sheets. Upon touch, they still possessed a rough, grainy texture—proof of their mostly unaltered state. But they’d been designed so the prisoner could at least rest his back against them, and not on the floor where the cold seeped through.

Jun heard a crash to his far right, and he turned to his only companion. Ninomiya had taken refuge in the corner where the light source was, taking most of the heat for himself. Jun saw Ninomiya looking at him.

He blinked in question. They couldn’t do much; Sakurai Sho had ensured that their best assets couldn’t be utilized.

Ninomiya’s fingers were moving, and it took Jun a moment to understand that he was speaking in the language of the outer rim—the wordless common tongue, the language of thieves. Jun, in his youth, had asked one of his personal tutors to study the signs for each word and teach it to him in order to prepare himself in court.

He never imagined it’d be put to use not in the middle of the palace hall surrounded by his councilors, but in the heart of an enemy base surrounded by a race who’d sworn to hate his.

He said something about your hands, Ninomiya was telling him. From the looks of his finger movements, he was very adept in the language. What was that?

Jun met Ninomiya’s gaze before relenting, hands moving slower to show his resignation. He didn’t want to speak the language of outlaws, but what choice did he have? That I don’t have calluses on them.

Ninomiya tilted his head, and somehow, Jun could tell he was smiling behind the gag. Guess I’m not the only one skeptical of your origins, Saiphan.

Jun didn’t deign that with a response. He looked ahead of him, at least until Ninomiya made another sound by banging his cuffs against the wall.

Were you a noble? Ninomiya asked. Noble or royalty were words Jun couldn’t differentiate very well, given that they required a similar twist of the wrist.

“Were?” Jun repeated in sign.

Ninomiya’s amusement reached his eyes, leaving them glinting even under scarce light. Something tells me you were telling the truth when you told our dear Emperor Apparent that you were an enemy of the Saiphan royal family.

You were listening in, Jun told him. It wasn’t accusatory, and he pronated his arm to say so. I thought you didn’t speak Hamali.

Speaking is different from understanding a little. Now you’re speaking in my tongue, Ninomiya said. Or at least in the tongue of those like me. You weren’t just a man in Saiph.

Jun stilled upon understanding that it hadn’t been posted as a question.

You were somebody else. Someone important, perhaps, Ninomiya continued.

They both heard the doors unlocking, with Ninomiya jumping a bit in place in surprise, but he eventually focused back on Jun.

The question is, who were you, really? Ninomiya said, and he lowered his hands just in time for Aiba not to be suspicious of anything as he crossed the threshold.

Aiba was out of his tattered cloak and worn out tunic. He wore a thick mining coat, his hair adorned with little snowflakes. He didn’t smile as he did a sweep with his eyes, and seeing nothing amiss, he tilted his head to his men in a wordless command.

One man stepped forward and placed a platter of food five paces away from Jun. He did the same on Ninomiya’s side before stepping back and resuming his former position behind Aiba.

“His Highness would like to know,” Aiba began in the common tongue, and Jun’s attention shifted to him, “what you two were talking about earlier.”

Jun found himself exchanging a look with Ninomiya, who turned back to Aiba and pointed to the gag. Ninomiya gave a shrug when Aiba’s eyes narrowed, and after what seemed to be a moment of contemplation on Aiba’s part, Aiba nodded to his men.

The men approached them cautiously, but they weren’t so careful when they held Jun down to remove the gag. Jun didn’t bother to struggle, instead choosing to give the men his coldest glare for their rough handling. He’d been handled without care since he’d left his home planet. The fight was almost out of him at this point—he was hungry and exhausted and freezing.

They let him be after, and Jun settled for moistening his lips and exercising his jaw. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Tell His Highness that on my planet, translators are treated as guests.” He looked around for show. “And that the quarters he has graciously provided are in poor condition. Is this what hospitality means for the Hamali?”

There was movement in the corner of Jun’s eye, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was Ninomiya hunched over in laughter.

His remark earned him Aiba’s frown and disapproving look. “You’re not a guest. Neither of you are. You’re here because I don’t trust you not to start fights among my men.”

“Unless your men have money, I’m not going to fight them for anything,” Ninomiya said, picking up a piece of bread from his platter and eating.

Aiba gave Jun a look that told him it wasn’t Ninomiya Aiba was particularly bothered about. It was him, and from the look on Aiba’s face, Jun could tell that the Emperor Apparent had thought the same.

He decided to imitate Ninomiya and not utter a word. His throat was rebelling against him; he reached for the cup of water and welcomed its rush down his throat.

“More,” Ninomiya said, raising his cup.

Aiba gestured to one of his men who refilled it. When he spoke, he was looking at Jun. “His Highness is not heartless.”

“Not that heartless,” Jun said. His cup was refilled too, without him asking for it.

“You have a full minute to answer His Highness’ inquiry,” Aiba said authoritatively.

“If he’s that curious, tell him to come and have a chat with his prisoners,” Ninomiya said.

“A chat,” said Sho. Jun didn’t even notice him arrive; he’d been hidden by the bulky coats worn by Aiba’s men, who were also taller than Sho in stature. How long had he been in there? “Very well. You seem to have mistaken my lieutenant for an errand boy.”

“You keep sending him to do the dirty work; I was wondering if you’d ask him to scrub the floors next,” Ninomiya said. If he was surprised by the arrival of the Emperor Apparent, he didn’t show it.

Sho stepped forward, an unsettling presence in the dark cell. He walked like a royal and dressed like one—his coat had the crest of the royal family and was made of a fine, silk-like material. He wore no armor, so confident was he that he would be safe even in the presence of an outlaw and a Saiphan.

“I see you and Ninomiya found a way to solve the language barrier problem,” Sho said to Jun. “Is that what the Saiphan royal family has for its enemies? A common thief?”

Jun opted not to reply, at least not verbally. He gestured with his hand, knowing Sho couldn’t understand it. A few paces away, Ninomiya laughed.

“You would have me ask what my distinguished guest said just now,” Sho said to Ninomiya.

“Tell you what, princeling,” Ninomiya said, and Jun watched him pay no mind to Aiba reaching for his phaser, “normally I’d lie about these things, but I’ll translate that for you to repay your generosity. He said, ‘What Saiph treats as outlaws, Hamal embraces as brothers.’”

Jun’s oldest tutor had often said that to him. A Hamali would be insulted upon hearing it, his tutor had claimed. He could see the effect the words had on Aiba and his men, the barely concealed rage on their faces.

Sho quirked an eyebrow at Jun. His features were calm, almost expressionless if it weren’t for the eyebrow. They stared at one another, until Sho faced his side.

“Lieutenant,” Sho said, and Aiba saluted him at once, “we have no need for the gags anymore. And have two of your soldiers bring these men coats. The solstice has begun sooner than we all thought.”

Jun could see Aiba’s surprise and confusion at the order. “Coats, Highness?”

“Yes,” Sho said. Aiba gestured to his men, and two of them departed at once. “We wouldn’t want them to be cold.”

He looked at Jun as he continued, “Not if they’re to remain here for long.”

--

Days passed. The only concept of time Jun had was the rise and fall of temperature in his surroundings. At first he couldn’t tell; Saiph had no winter and Hamal’s winter morning didn’t seem different from its evenings. But Ninomiya taught him how.

Jun spent the first few days observing Ninomiya’s habits; it wasn’t as if he had anything better to do. The man kept a routine: sleeping at the same hour, in the same position with the coat provided to him wrapped tight around his curled body like a makeshift blanket, and woke up at the same time, just before Aiba’s men arrived to bring them breakfast.

For all the scathing remarks Jun had thrown the Emperor Apparent’s way, he still received meals thrice a day. Meals in this camp consisted of a cup of water (refillable upon request, but he and Ninomiya were only permitted one refill per meal), crusty bread, a small slice of cheese, and edible flora indigenous to Hamal that Jun couldn’t recognize.

He ate all of it and left his plate spotless every time. Food was food; despite his hatred for Sho’s ill treatment of his prison, Sho made sure he was fed. Jun and Ninomiya were no longer visited by Sho after Jun had insulted him, and Ninomiya’s questions to Aiba’s men regarding the Emperor Apparent’s presence had been rebuffed.

It was late into the evening when he heard Ninomiya stir from his sleep. Jun could hear Ninomiya’s breathing turning shallow, and when he listened carefully, he heard it.

Someone was approaching the doors.

Jun sat up in moments, pressing his back flat against the wall. He had nothing but a thin coat that barely kept him warm, but the least he could do was to make sure no one could stand behind him should this prove to be an ambush.

If he died here tonight, no one would even know. But Jun swore he wouldn’t die without fighting back.

In his periphery, Ninomiya was also sitting up, except he still had his coat draped on his lap. It kept his hands hidden, which Jun assumed was the point. If Ninomiya had a weapon with him, he could bring a man down with it before their visitor was even aware.

The doors swooshed open, the overhead lights turning on with it despite their constant flickering. Behind the faint smoke, Jun recognized the Emperor Apparent, his strides perfectly paced as he stepped inside. He wore a cloak that ran down his shins, held together at the middle by a badge that had the crest of the royal family.

“Ninomiya,” Sho said, “I would rather you lowered your weapon.”

“If you knew I had one, why didn’t you take it?” Ninomiya asked.

“I was wondering when you’d use it. You’re a smart man; you know that if you stab me here, right now, you’d be dead within five steps from this door.” Sho smiled. “Even if you remember the way you came through, your cell is still thirty-six meters away from the exit.”

Jun watched as Ninomiya pulled his hands out, spreading them on top of his coat. Whatever he held underneath the coat, he seemed to have set it aside.

“After days of deflections from your men regarding your whereabouts, what warranted us your exalted presence now, princeling?” Ninomiya asked with a smile. “We were sleeping.”

“You were,” Sho said. “Your companion wasn’t.” He didn’t look at Jun. “I have decided where to put you. You said you were a better marksman than most of the men I have under my service.”

Ninomiya was smirking now. “You would trust me with a phaser or any kind of gun and believe I won’t shoot you or your men any chance I get?”

Sho hummed. “A curious thought. No, but it has been a cause of frustration on my part that I couldn’t put you to best use and still have to keep you alive by feeding you regularly. Thinking about it, it was either making a bet with your tongue or your skills with a gun, and I made my choice.”

A choice that didn’t make sense to Jun. He found himself sharing Ninomiya’s thoughts on the matter.

“What makes you think I won’t shoot your men during target practice?” Ninomiya asked.

“Oh, I think you will try,” Sho said. “I expect it. But that’s not up to me. Stand, tuck away your knife, and report to the garrison. These men will escort you.” He gestured behind him with a wave of his hand. “My captain will handle the rest and show you the artillery.”

To his men, Sho said, “The knife remains with him.” It earned a chorus of affirmatives.

Ninomiya spent a few seconds sitting still before he stood and did what was asked. Jun watched him walk, and he passed by Sho without causing any incident. Jun watched him get led around by two soldiers after they’d cuffed him.

He kept watching until they turned a corner, and he found Sho looking at him.

“You didn’t make them take his knife,” Jun said.

“You didn’t even know he had a knife,” Sho said.

“I’m not the one he threatened to use it on.”

Sho considered that, tilting his head. “He seemed attached to it. Perhaps it was a reminder of home for him. I won’t take something like that.”

“If you decided what to do with him, have you also decided on what to do with me?” Jun asked. “If you made a bet on his marksmanship, do you think you can bet on my oral skills?”

“No,” Sho said. “I don’t need a silver tongue to make men pilot a spacecraft and fire a gun.” He stepped fully into Jun’s view, and every bit about him spoke of noble birth. Had Jun also moved like that in his home planet? He’d had tutors who’d taught him proper decorum and conduct. “You’ve offered me nothing but insults since your arrival and yet still ate off my hand like a common dog.”

“You treated us like dogs by feeding us scraps,” Jun said.

Sho’s eyes narrowed. “That’s food for soldiers and scraps for those who can afford more.” Jun’s blood went cold, and he willed himself not to give anything away. He was aware he acted as he was accustomed to, like someone of high status. “You’re not a soldier, you’re not a trader either. Yet you are a traitor and a deserter, and as of this moment, nothing but a decorative prisoner.”

“Decorative?” Jun repeated.

“The men take fancy in pretty faces,” Sho said. “Isn’t it fortunate that I allowed Ninomiya to keep his knife? That way, no one would even look in his direction.”

Jun straightened from his slouch; he could no longer relax. It made sense since most of the men in this camp were recruited outlaws. Thieves, mercenaries, pirates, swindlers. But Jun had been naïve to think that was the least of their crimes.

“You wouldn’t,” Jun said.

“Wouldn’t what?” Sho asked.

“You wouldn’t allow such depravity to exist in your base.”

“Now you hold me in high regard? After all the insults?”

Jun studied Sho—his cleanly shaven face, his pristine clothes, the snowflakes stuck in his hair. “My insults are not sufficient enough to truly get under your skin.”

If they were, Jun would have known it. He would have been punished more severely, perhaps killed for his insolence instead of being kept locked away.

“You’re right, I don’t allow it,” Sho said. “I condone it, in fact. Anyone caught doing something illicit and depraved will be sent to the high prison on my authority. But I don’t know everything that goes on in here, certainly not on how the men choose to spend their time when the day’s work is over.”

“Does that amuse you?” Jun asked. “The idea that you would allow me to interact with these men, to see how I fare amongst them? Is there a bet between my side and Ninomiya’s, on which of us would last longer?”

Sho regarded him, brown eyes that had nothing but contempt in them. “There is a bet. Among the men. Word has gone out that I kept two prisoners in here, a cell I never found use for until you two came along. And with Ninomiya now part of my retinue, you can imagine how that imbalances the odds on your side.”

“I’m not helping anyone win a wager,” Jun said. “If I survive in your camp, I did it for myself. Do what you will with me, but if you’re thinking you can make me part of your men, you’re wrong.”

“I wasn’t thinking that,” Sho said. “You see, these men, despite their varied origins, are soldiers.” He waved his hand in a gesture, and past his shoulder, Jun could see a few men standing guard past the door. “Soldiers die when they’re told. You’re not a soldier, because whoever sent you here intended for you to die and you didn’t.”

Rina had always said he was stubborn.

“Not yet, at least,” Jun said.

“Not if I can help it,” Sho acknowledged.

Jun frowned. “You would allow your planet’s sworn enemy to mingle with your men?”

“I would allow you to leave this cell, yes,” Sho said.

“Why?” Jun asked. It wasn’t the kind of bet Jun would have made had he been in Sho’s position. If things were reversed and he had Sho for a prisoner, he would hold Sho hostage until the Hamali begged for his release. Then he’d ask for a treaty to seal the peace, to end a century-long animosity between their planets.

“It’s not the worst idea I’ve entertained and acted upon in the past month,” Sho said.

“And what is?” Jun asked.

“Letting my sworn enemy live in the first place,” Sho said. “Report to Aiba’s sentry. It’s time you earn your stay.”

--

Aiba’s sentry was located at the coldest part of the base, at the edge of the hilltop facing the spaceport Jun remembered leaving. He had cuffs on his wrists that Aiba ordered to be removed before Aiba gestured to one of his men, the one who made fun of Aiba’s pad and its inability to do its purpose.

“Matsumoto,” Aiba said, eyeing him with distrust, “this is Ikuta. Whatever he asks you to do, you do it. The only things you’re not allowed to do are to see the artillery, pilot one of the spacecrafts, and do guard duty on your own.” Aiba spoke in pure Hamali, and he looked at Ikuta. “If anything happens to him or he starts trouble, you answer to His Highness.”

Ikuta looked displeased. He was wearing similar clothes to Aiba’s: a thick coat, boots that ran up to his knees, and thick gloves made of leather. “I’m not a babysitter.” At Aiba’s quirking eyebrow, he added, “Sir.”

“You are now,” Aiba told him. “Per His Highness’ orders.”

“With all due respect, Lieutenant,” Ikuta said, “is he that important? The men said he was a deserter.”

“He’s important because His Highness declared me personally responsible should anything happen to him,” Aiba said. “And now I’m declaring you personally responsible because nobody else is free and I don’t trust Kazama with him.”

“No one would trust that guy,” Ikuta said. He gave Jun a disgruntled look before tilting his head. “Come along, VIP.”

Jun followed, and they left Aiba’s settlement, which was a small dome located beside the entrance to the base. The harsh wind from the mainland struck Jun, and he barely suppressed a shiver as he trudged beside Ikuta. Their feet left bootprints on the snow, and Jun found himself glancing behind every now and then.

The last time he’d seen snow, it had been at one of his personal getaways. He’d flown his personal spaceship to one moon in Rigel, a popular tourist campsite. He’d enjoyed his time there, witnessing the formation of icicles for the first time.

Strange that he experienced snow again in a camp but one of a very different nature.

“So,” Ikuta said, when they were far enough from Aiba’s settlement, “are you the Emperor Apparent’s new lover?”

Jun nearly tripped, snow crunching under his boot. “What?!”

Ikuta didn’t look bothered by Jun’s sudden surprise and subsequent anger. He just kept walking. “There has to be a reason why you’re top priority.”

“I’m not,” Jun said, horrified. “Not top priority nor his lover.”

Jun thought he had to be mad if he ever considered bedding Sho, the one man in the galaxy who hated him, his family, his home planet. Sworn enemy was the term they’d equally used for one another. The very idea of sharing Sho’s bed made him shudder.

And if he factored in that he was the Crown Prince of Saiph, the idea of engaging in a sexual relationship with Hamal’s Emperor Apparent was entirely unfathomable.

“Well that just sent some of the speculations straight down the drain,” Ikuta said. He sounded disappointed. “They were thinking either you or the other guy—the big-time wanted swindler, I mean—captured the Emperor Apparent’s attention, hence the special treatment you got for a couple of weeks.”

Special treatment? Jun had been made to stay in a cold cell that left his limbs numb and teeth chattering during the night. Ninomiya had taken the heater for himself. Jun was sure a few more days in that cell would have given him frostbite.

“We were kept prisoner,” Jun said. “Your Emperor Apparent is not very hospitable.”

“You’re the only one he sent to the prison cells after getting here; it got some of the men thinking.”

“Some?” Jun repeated. “Not including you?”

“Oh I’m more of a pragmatist,” Ikuta told him, sounding amused. “That’s why I asked.”

“Well now you have something to share at the breakfast table,” Jun said. He didn’t share Ikuta’s amusement.

“I never believed either of you were his lovers, anyway,” Ikuta said. “He’s royalty. I find it impossible that he’d roll in bed with people below him. Besides, the Emperor Apparent never took a lover.”

Jun frowned at that. He’d been Crown Prince before he got sent here. As Crown Prince, he’d been the recipient of numerous offers since he’d come of age. He’d slept with a few and had his fair share of flings and short-lived romances. It wasn’t a prince’s job to stay celibate but he had to make sure he bedded the right people: the ones who wouldn’t brag about the experience, those who genuinely valued him, and those who sincerely enjoyed his company. He didn’t do it for political advancement. He’d done it for the simple pleasure of making love to another.

He couldn’t imagine Sho never having a lover.

“He must have had one,” Jun said. While he’d rather speak about other matters than Sho’s romantic history, it was better than Ikuta making speculations about where Jun had come from. “Or multiple, for all you know.”

“There were rumors,” Ikuta told him. “But nothing of substance came out of it. Of course, no one out here thinks he’s a virgin; he must have someone back in the capital. Some pretty prince or princess from an allied planet or a lady or a gentleman of the court. But nothing’s been proven, and so far he’s turned down any potential arrangements and all of his suitors.”

“This is what this camp does to pass the time? Exchange court gossip over a crackling fire?”

“The royal family has been subject to gossip since the Empress Apparent eloped with the Saiphan prince,” Ikuta said. “Personally, I find that feud to be nonsense given how much time has passed since then, but we Hamali are traditional people.”

“I noticed,” Jun told him. The Hamali’s customs spoke of a culture that had its roots buried deep into a millenia of history. Jun could remember his history lessons, albeit vaguely. “You must hate me, then.”

“Hate?” Ikuta snorted. “No, it’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’m indifferent to you, Matsumoto. You’re my responsibility, and that’s the only reason I care about you. But if you decide to desert again, I’ll only come after you if the lieutenant or His Highness himself tells me to. If you kill yourself out of despair regarding your situation, I will be annoyed because it will inconvenience me and give me additional work, which would be explaining to the lieutenant why you suddenly dropped dead.” He stopped walking and faced Jun. “To put it simply, don’t give me any trouble.”

“And if trouble finds me first?” Jun asked. “You might be the only Hamali in this camp who doesn’t hate me. I’ve seen the looks thrown at me since I left my cell.”

“If trouble finds you first, you’ll be seeing that cell again,” Ikuta said. He resumed walking, and Jun saw that they were headed for a dome located at the other end of the gates. Smaller than Aiba’s settlement but towering just the same. Jun could make out two figures guarding its entrance. “I don’t play favorites, Matsumoto. But I’m loyal to my planet and its citizens.”

“And its Empress?” Jun supplied.

Ikuta looked thoughtful. Then the moment passed, and Ikuta waved a dismissive hand to the two guards who eyed Jun with distrust.

“Trouble seems to find you wherever you go,” Ikuta said once they were inside. It was a storage dome divided into separate areas, and Jun was led to the one that housed whatever suitable clothes were available to them.

Jun looked around, seeing clothes worn by the Hamali. When Rina had him thrown in that handler’s spaceship, she had him wear Saiphan merchant clothes. Now he felt suffocated with the option he was given: to remove the remaining traces of home from his person.

“I think it will bring me more trouble if I opted to wear your people’s clothing,” Jun said.

Ikuta had his arms crossed over his chest, his weight leaning against the wall. He didn’t appear to be on his guard around Jun, perhaps discerning early on that Jun had an idea how futile an attempt to escape was going to be. “I think you don’t have a choice. Whatever you choose to wear, you’ll be courting danger.”

Jun clutched at his tattered tunic beneath his coat before resigning himself, shrugging off the coat and shedding the rest of his clothes. The heater in this dome worked perfectly, and yet Jun felt so exposed, like he was losing his own skin and identity.

He’d done it. What his fake profile said about him—traitor, deserter—he’d become it.

“May I have a moment?” Jun asked, his hands fisted on the Hamali clothing provided for him. Now that he was naked, the gravity of his situation sunk in.

He was truly alone in a planet that had nothing but hostility for his kind.

He was, for all intents and purposes, considered dead by any Saiphan.

“You can turn around and show me your back instead of your face,” Ikuta said. “That’s your moment.”

Left with no other option, Jun bared his back and let out a breath, the only sign of vulnerability he allowed himself to show since Rina had betrayed him. His chest felt tight, and he held himself back from shedding any tears.

What made Rina do what she’d done? How did she come to hate Jun so? Jun could remember himself hiding behind her skirts when other children in the court didn’t want to play with him. She’d protected him.

Jun slipped on the tunic, the foreign material only reminding him of how far he was from home. He didn’t know if he’d make it back there. He put on the rest, had laced his boots and slipped on his coat once more.

He felt like somebody else. Like Matsumoto Jun of Saiph had been dying and this was what had snuffed out the very last of his existence in the end.

When Jun turned to present himself, he was alone.

--

Ikuta put him into hard labor the following morning. Jun had been allowed to procure a sleeping bag of his own and Ikuta had him sleep in the storage dome to avoid any possible altercations with the rest of the men for the time being. The recruited outlaws went to the garrison and were the captain’s responsibility—whoever he might be—leaving Aiba’s sentry composed entirely of Hamali.

It’s time to earn your stay, Sho had said.

Jun was sent to deliver spacecraft parts to the port shipyard after he’d confirmed that he did know how to dismantle and assemble the parts back together. The men Ikuta had assigned with him had nothing but hatred on their faces, something Ikuta had noticed early on.

“He had the swindler keep his knife,” Jun had said, when Ikuta led him past the disgruntled men. Jun had no weapon to defend himself.

“You have something better than a knife,” Ikuta had replied.

And to the rest of the men that had gathered, Ikuta had said, “No one touches him.” They all looked disappointed with the order. “Whoever does answers to me, to the lieutenant, and to His Highness. I can assure you, I will be the mildest you have to deal with should that happen.”

For all their dislike for Jun, the men proved to be adept at following orders. No one outright bullied him, but they did give Jun the heaviest parts to lift after discovering that his hands had no calluses. They made sure he’d blister and be left sore come the night, that he’d ache all over the following morning because of the lack of a medicinal salve.

At lunch, they’d given Jun the same kind of food he’d endured in the prison cell, and Jun had to eat while trying his best to ignore the disdainful looks thrown his way. He kept to himself and did his work, and when evening came, Ikuta returned and took one good look at him.

“They made you carry the thruster parts,” Ikuta concluded.

Jun didn’t respond.

“On your own,” Ikuta added.

Jun looked straight at Ikuta. “Will there be anything else?”

“Remove your gloves,” Ikuta said.

Jun hesitated. Doing so would have the leather scrape against his blisters, and he’d been enduring the pain well all this time.

“That’s an order, Matsumoto.”

Jun carefully took off his gloves, revealing the blisters that lined his knuckles, the sides of his hands, the surfaces of his palms. They looked less erythematous with the cold weather constricting his capillaries, but come tomorrow morning, Jun was certain he’d reopen the wounds again.

“Of course, when I told them you’re untouchable, they found a way to make you hurt yourself,” Ikuta said, the corner of his mouth in a scowl. “You don’t get blisters like that unless you’ve been stubborn enough to actually do what they told you to do.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Jun said, “you entrusted my fate to them.”

“Kazama was at the shipyard today,” Ikuta told him. It was a name Jun only heard for the second time. “He’s the foreman. If the men were abusing you, you should have told him.”

“I can fight my own battles,” Jun said.

“With stubbornness?” Ikuta asked. “Yes, and this is what that got you.” His scowl deepened. “Put the gloves back on and come with me.”

“Where?” Jun asked, but he followed Ikuta anyway. Of all the men in this camp, Ikuta was the only one who had a semblance of concern for his wellbeing. Not out of genuine kindness, Jun knew, but it was better than nothing.

Ikuta didn’t respond, and they walked to a dome that seemed similar to the size of the storage dome. Upon entering, Jun was hit with a whiff that he’d only associated in infirmaries.

“Bringing in another idiot?” a man asked, and Jun assumed he was the physician in this base.

“This camp has no shortage of them,” Ikuta said, and he pushed Jun onward with little grace.

The way the physician looked at him was full of interest, a far cry from the usual looks Jun had been getting since he’d arrived here. “Ah, the Emperor Apparent’s new lover?”

“I’m not,” Jun said immediately.

The physician looked at Ikuta, who shrugged.

“He says he’s not,” Ikuta said.

“And? What brings you here?” the physician asked, looking at Jun. “Injured yourself?

“I’m fine,” Jun said.

“Toma doesn’t bring men here unless they’re dying,” the physician said. “Or unless he’s going to be scolded and he wants me to do something about it.”

Jun’s eyes narrowed, and he turned to Ikuta. “Have I been summoned?”

“We’re keeping His Highness waiting, Okada-kun,” Ikuta said, ignoring Jun’s query. “If you can patch up his hands and whatever other parts he ended up injuring, we’ll get going.”

Okada tilted his head, and Jun followed him. Jun was made to sit on a stool, his gloves carefully removed as his blisters got tended to with some kind of salve that smelled too much like rusting metal.

“That stuff works?” Jun asked. In Saiph, they relied on high-end technology to tend to wounds and treat diseases. No one in Saiph used salves anymore; they went out of circulation a few years back in the advent of the dermal regenerator.

“Did you expect a regenerator?” Okada asked. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m saving that for graver injuries, not for small cuts that’ll only inconvenience His Highness once you share his bed.”

“I don’t share his bed,” Jun said, annoyed.

“That’s the first sign of emotion I’ve seen on your face since you entered my settlement, Saiphan,” Okada told him. He finished up bandaging Jun’s hands and gave Jun the jar of salve. “Use when necessary. I don’t think you’ll have it easy, and when you run out, come back for more.”

“I thought you had a shortage of medicinal supplies,” Jun said, standing and making his way back to where Ikuta was waiting.

“Not of salves,” Okada said. “Your people like reminding us that we’re beneath you. So where else did you think your planet chucked all the salves you produced that went unsold when you adopted the regenerator?”

--

They had to report first to Aiba who escorted them to Sho’s settlement, and this time, the holograms were turned off and Sho was sitting on a stool with a pad in his hands. He didn’t look up despite their presence, but did give Aiba an acknowledging wave of his hand.

“How do you like my camp?” Sho asked, not looking away from what he was reading.

“Nothing different from your prison,” Jun said.

“You stand out in those clothes,” Sho said, glancing at him. “Has no one hit him today?”

“None to my knowledge,” Ikuta said.

“Pity,” Sho said. “I was under the impression you’d get punched on your first day. No one likes a smart mouth to go with a pretty face. It’s just one or the other.”

“I think he’ll last a week, at least,” Ikuta said.

Sho looked at Ikuta. “Do you now?”

Ikuta shrugged. “He does what he’s told.”

Sho smiled. “Like a dog.”

Jun could feel the familiar heat of anger rising in him, but he trampled it down. It would be petty to engage after such a cheap taunt.

“What did you make him do today?” Sho asked, and Ikuta answered the question as thoroughly as he could. Jun noticed that Ikuta had left out the visit at the infirmary, as well as his discovery of Jun’s blisters.

“Who’s in charge of the shipyard?” Sho asked, directing it to Aiba.

“Kazama,” Aiba said. “He reports directly to me, though.”

Sho straightened in his seat, studying Jun. “And you did not receive a single report from Kazama on any unjust treatment in the shipyard today?”

Aiba appeared confused. “None, Highness.”

Sho looked contemplative, then he tilted his chin at Aiba and Ikuta. “Leave us.”

Aiba didn’t agree with that order, a hand already resting on the holster that held his phaser. “Begging your pardon, Highness, but I don’t think that’s wise. He—”

“—won’t try to take me hostage in order to escape,” Sho finished confidently.

“I’m afraid we don’t know that, Highness. We can’t risk it,” Aiba said authoritatively, and it earned him a look from Sho.

“But he does know that,” Sho said, gesturing at Jun. “Don’t you? You know that there’s no point in taking me hostage and hijacking a spacecraft to take you away from here.”

Jun held Sho’s gaze, and he shut his eyes in acceptance.

He knew. The idea had crossed his mind, but he knew it’d all be for nothing.

After all, he had no home to go back to.

“Leave us,” Sho said again.

After a moment of hesitation, Aiba and Ikuta obeyed, bowing in reverence before striding out. Jun didn’t miss Aiba’s look of warning directed at him as the lieutenant departed.

Jun faced Sho once more, and the feeling was something Jun couldn’t explain. He’d felt safer in the shipyard today, surrounded by men who outwardly hated him and made him do all the heavy lifting.

Sho was just one man, and yet Jun felt he was suddenly tossed in a gladiator’s arena with a lion, a custom he’d read about in the Old World.

“You didn’t complain about the ill treatment you went through today,” Sho said. “Tell me why.”

“It would have achieved nothing,” Jun replied.

“Kazama is a good man, a just man.”

“And he’s a Hamali and I’m a Saiphan.”

That won him one of Sho’s smiles, a small quirk of the angle of his lips. “You’re learning. It’s only been a day out there, and you already know how you fare against my men.”

Sho had put him alongside the men most loyal to the royal family. Jun knew he had no chances against any of those. He didn’t have to be the Crown Prince to know that. He simply had to be born in Saiph.

“Did Toma bring you to Okada before this?” Sho asked.

Jun was a second too late in hiding the flicker of emotion on his face.

“Well? Let’s see what Okada had to patch up,” Sho said.

“No,” Jun said.

“No?” Sho asked.

“You’ve humiliated me enough since I came here,” Jun said. “Allow me to keep my wounds to myself. If you’re as honorable as your title suggests, you’d grant me this.”

“And why would I grant you anything, Saiphan?” Sho asked. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“You don’t, that’s true,” Jun acknowledged. “But I refuse all the same.”

“Why?”

“You’re not my Emperor and I’m not your servant,” Jun told him.

Sho merely stared at him, something akin to curiosity on his face. For a brief moment, he didn’t speak.

“Do you know what your eyes are telling me right now, Saiphan? What they always told me since you first arrived here?” Sho asked. “That you will not submit. You will not waver, you will not beg, and you will not be put on your knees. You have the eyes of a fighter and not those of a deserter, and something tells me that they only managed to send you here after they crippled you greatly enough that you couldn’t stand back up.”

Jun held his ground, keeping his hands fisted on his sides. It made the bandages compress his wounds, but the momentary pain was something he could focus on.

“It makes me wonder who got so close to you that they were able to put you in my hands,” Sho said. “Was it a family member? A lover? A trading partner, perhaps? Or a confidante?”

Jun directed his eyes past Sho, unable to look at him. The truth was right between them. But Jun couldn’t say it. Everyone in Hamal knew of the names of the Saiphan royal family. It was bad enough that Jun got delivered to Hamal with his name unchanged. He only got lucky it was a name common enough in Saiph since his planet had celebrated the time of his birth and had honored him by naming newborns at the time after him.

“Nothing to say?” Sho asked.

“I...transgressed against the Crown Princess,” Jun said.

“The usurper,” Sho said. “Yes, you’ve told me this before, that you made an enemy of the royal family. But for that to be possible, there had to be someone you trusted. Someone who utterly broke you enough that they got past your defenses and left you to die here.”

Jun shut his eyes briefly, reopened them and leveled Sho’s gaze with his own.

“But you won’t,” Sho said, sounding convinced of it. “No, you will want to make things difficult for me, just as I am making them difficult for you. You won’t die because the longer you live, the longer it inconveniences me. You won’t hand me that kind of satisfaction, not after discovering that you can survive a shipyard full of Hamali and stand on your feet before me to refuse a direct order.”

Jun felt an understanding fall between them, the unspoken acknowledgement of Jun’s stubbornness and unwillingness to back down without a fight.

“You’re the one who ordered Aiba to not have your men harm me,” Jun said.

“Is that what they told you? That you have my favor acting as your shield against my men?”

“You don’t favor me,” Jun said. “But you don’t want me to die either.”

“Oh no,” Sho said in disappointment, “it’s not that. I couldn’t care any less if you died. In fact, I want you to, because that will give me a small victory against the sworn enemy of my people. But no, you’ve been given my protection because if you die, I don’t want it to be on the hands of my men who seek swift justice.”

Jun stood in place, finally understanding. It made him sick in his stomach.

“You see now?” Sho asked with a smile that Jun now knew to be deceptive. “If you die here, I want it to be long and excruciating, the kind that eats you from the inside. I want it to be slow, because quick hurt will barely register.” He looked at Jun’s hands that remained clenched into fists at Jun’s sides. “You don’t have my favor; you have my attention.”

Sho’s smile this time showed off his teeth. “And you will find that you were better off fooling yourself that what you have is the former.”

--

In the week that came, Jun became more of an errand boy than a shipyard worker. He was given the most difficult and time-consuming tasks—from heavy lifting to satellite fixing in the middle of the night. Sho’s men had no regard whether Jun froze himself to death or his fingers had numbed that he couldn’t hook the wires in their proper places. All they cared about was if the Saiphan deserved the day’s meal.

The portions of food he’d gotten were comparatively smaller, but Jun uttered no complaint. He still stayed in the storage dome as per Ikuta’s orders, and the solitude was something he welcomed. At night, with all the work and the unfairness behind him and saved for tomorrow, he could think. He could pretend he was still in his home planet, that his father the king still lived, and he was slated to assume the throne come a few months. He could delude himself that he wasn’t in a freezing hell of a planet, that he wasn’t surviving for the sake of proving something to his captor.

When morning arrived, Jun would get up, leaving all his tattered dreams and aspirations behind.

He lasted three and a half weeks until he found himself in an altercation. One of the shipyard workers, a vocal Hamali with a broken accent who downright hated Jun, messed up one of the spacecraft repairs and put the blame on Jun.

Jun could ignore the scathing remarks, but an insult to his integrity was something he wouldn’t back down from.

“You asked for those parts,” Jun said to the man. “I specifically asked if you were sure that those were the ones you wanted to use, and you said yes anyway.”

“You brought me the wrong thing,” the man told him. “Because of you, we’re one spacecraft short, and dismantling this is going to take twice the time.”

“Had you been paying attention to your job, you’d have noticed you asked for the wrong thing,” Jun told him.

The man studied him. “You talk big since you’re under his protection. Is that it? You do dirty work here and serve him in his settlement after?”

“I don’t lay with him,” Jun said. He lost count how many times he had to say it.

The man didn’t appear to hear him. “That’s it. You’re his bitch, and you do everything he says. You crawled into his bed when your own planet didn’t want you. Well, wait for him to learn about this. I bet he’ll just cast you aside like your planet did to you.”

Jun saw red then. Before he was able to land a punch, however, he received one on his right cheek that sent him stepping back. The disorientation lasted for a brief moment, and Jun felt his knuckle split when he managed to hit the man square in the jaw.

It was all a blur by the time the other workers had them separated. Jun could feel his knuckles stinging, that parts of his face were bruised. He knew he looked similar to the man he’d just punched, but unlike him, Jun was still on his feet and could go for more.

Back in his youth, he’d underwent a private training with his personal guard. When he’d come of age, he’d thought it’d be prudent if he learned how to defend himself, to fight like a trained bodyguard. He had been a fast learner, and he’d downed a couple of his own men in practice fights.

Jun knew he looked like he had a fight in him, with the build that he had. But what the workers here had no idea was that he also possessed endurance aside from the skill, and that the absence of weapons on hand didn’t make him any less deadlier.

“What’s happening here?” Kazama asked. Jun had met him on his third day, a man of a smaller stature and build. He never looked intimidating, and Jun suspected that the workers were doing as they were told not out of fear of Kazama, but of Aiba.

“The Saiphan started it,” one of the men said.

“Liar,” Jun said. “You protect your own even in the midst of a lie, but you all heard what he said.”

“And what did he say?” Kazama asked, looking at Jun now.

“That he was the Emperor Apparent’s bitch,” one of the men answered. “That he only found his way here after he climbed into the Emperor Apparent’s bed, because no Saiphan wanted him now that he was forced to lay with the enemy.”

Kazama sighed. “You waste your time spreading rumors regarding the possible nonexistence of the Emperor Apparent’s supposed celibacy?”

The men straightened at that.

“You have work to do,” Kazama told them. “You’re here because the lieutenant thought you’d be perfect with getting our army ready should the time come for us to defend our own. And instead of doing what you’re supposed to do, you start fights that will only set us back.”

“He brought me the wrong parts,” the man Jun had punched said. “The Saiphan is unfit to work with us.”

“You asked for the wrong parts,” Jun told him. “I asked you if you were sure, and you didn’t listen to any of my concerns.”

Everyone ignored him. “He’s not supposed to be here, foreman,” one of the men said. “He inspires unrest, and none of us are really comfortable with the idea of having our enemy so close by. How do we know he’s not a spy? He’s seeing all the intricate work here.”

“First you accuse me of being incompetent that I had to lay with your future emperor in order to earn a place here,” Jun said, “and now you accuse me of being a spy. Decide which one is truly my crime, and settle it in the way you Hamali would.”

“We don’t kill like your kind,” one of the men said. “You killed us when we wanted peace. And you will keep killing us because you don’t see us as people.” He looked at Kazama. “He breeds distrust here. He doesn’t belong here.”

“He doesn’t belong anywhere,” Kazama said. “Not even his own planet wanted him.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to make room for him,” a worker said. “We can’t progress as we should. We’re already delayed because of the wrong repair, and the longer he stays here, the more problems he’ll cause.”

Kazama seemed to weigh his options. Jun stood there, seething at the injustice. Now more than ever, he felt that he was one man against an army with no allies, no reinforcements.

I want it to be long and excruciating, Sho had said.

“Matsumoto, you come with me,” Kazama said. “The rest of you, get back to work. Yoko, go to the infirmary, get some ice for your face.”

Yoko, the one Jun had punched, scowled. “Okada’s just going to tell me there’s enough snow outside.”

“Not my problem,” Kazama said. “Get back to work.” He looked at Jun, at Jun’s bruises and small cuts. “I’m starting to think Yoko had it worse than you did. Are you going to punch me for siding with my men?”

“You did as predicted,” Jun said. “I don’t share your men’s habit of starting fights with people who can’t defend themselves.”

“But you can defend yourself,” Kazama pointed out. He began walking, and Jun trudged behind him. “That’s something most of the men here probably haven’t considered since you spent weeks keeping to yourself even if they were outright bullying you.”

“Your men taunt like children,” Jun said.

“But they’re not the ones who got riled up after hearing the truth,” Kazama said.

Jun remained silent, and soon he saw where Kazama was taking him.

“You’re reporting to Aiba,” he said.

“That’s Lieutenant Aiba to you,” Kazama said.

Jun paid him no mind. “You’re reporting to him without dropping me off to infirmary.”

“Your face is proof enough of what happened,” Kazama said. Jun wondered how big the bruises he sported were. “The lieutenant might want to check the security footage we have in the shipyard, but I think he’ll take my word for it after he sees you.”

They reached Aiba’s settlement, and Aiba was standing behind a couple of holograms of infrastructures they were yet to build in the camp. He had a pad in his hands, and he frowned upon seeing Kazama with Jun, his expression darkening when he got a good look of Jun’s face.

Ikuta happened to be there as well, and he and Aiba seemed to be conferring about something before they stopped and shifted their attention to Kazama.

“Let me guess,” Ikuta said, “he delivered the first punch.”

“Yoko did,” Kazama said.

Aiba seemed surprised. “Yoko?”

Ikuta was frowning. “Yoko’s a good fighter.” His eyes narrowed at Jun. “You knocked him out?”

“Close,” Jun said.

To his surprise, Ikuta grinned. “You see, Aiba-chan? This is why I think we’re wasting him by putting him in the shipyard.”

“You told me he blistered his fingers on his first day,” Aiba said.

“And he’s learned since then,” Ikuta said. “How was Yoko’s face, Kazama-kun? I look forward to seeing him at dinner tonight.”

“Needed ice, perhaps a few stitches on his eyebrow,” Kazama said. He gestured to Jun. “He can’t remain under my watch any longer. The men don’t like it. I think some of them are afraid of him now after witnessing what he can do.”

“I wouldn’t go berserk if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jun said. “I’m not an animal, despite your future emperor’s constant comparisons.”

He caught Ikuta, Aiba, and Kazama exchanging looks.

“Should we let the captain deal with him?” Kazama suggested.

“His Highness put me in charge of him,” Aiba said. “If I pass the responsibility to somebody else, how do you think that will reflect on me?”

“Not very well, but at least he’d be out of your hands,” Ikuta said.

Aiba seemed to not like it, but even Jun understood that Ikuta had a point.

“If we send him to the captain, he’ll make him hold a gun and nobody wants to see this man with a gun,” Kazama said. “Not after what happened today.”

“What do you propose we do? He won’t blend in no matter where we put him. He starts fights just because of who he is,” Ikuta said to Aiba. “If you put him on guard duty, he might desert his post. Kazama doesn’t want him in the shipyard anymore.”

Aiba looked at him. “What can you do, Matsumoto? Were you part of the Saiphan army?”

“I had military training,” Jun said. He’d asked his personal guard to be as strict as possible with him, and it had all paid off. He was as good as them, and the only reason Jun hadn’t been able to fight his father’s soldiers back when Rina had betrayed him was that he’d been too out of sorts to fathom what had been happening.

“So he can be a soldier and he also possesses a silver tongue,” Ikuta said.

Aiba and Kazama both looked at Ikuta, and it was a staring match that lasted for a few seconds.

Until Aiba said, flatly, “No.”

“I think Toma has a point, Aiba-chan,” Kazama said.

“No,” Aiba said again, this time shaking his head.

“We all miss Nagase,” Ikuta said. “But it’s been months, and the Emperor Apparent’s at risk every day. From discovery, from failure, from an assassination.”

“He’s a Saiphan,” Aiba said, staring incredulously at his two men.

“And he’s also someone with the proper training and the only one who lasted five minutes in a settlement with the Emperor Apparent without being verbally eviscerated,” Ikuta said. “We left them alone that night against your wishes, and not a hair on His Highness was harmed.”

Jun had a feeling he knew what they had in mind, but he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk.

“How do we know he wasn’t sent here to assassinate His Highness and is simply awaiting an opportunity like this?” Aiba asked.

“I’m not the one who wants the enemy to die,” Jun said. They all turned to him. “If anyone wants someone to die, that’s your future emperor doing everything he can to make my life harder until I beg him for death.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Aiba asked, and he stepped in front of Jun. He was a few centimeters taller, and for the first time, Jun felt how imposing Aiba could be should he wish it. “You’re the sworn enemy of our people, you started a fight in the shipyard, and you insulted His Highness on multiple occasions. How do I know you don’t want him to die on your hands?”

“I don’t intend to soil my hands with blood of the Hamali,” Jun said. He caught Ikuta and Kazama straightening at that, and Aiba frowned. “I don’t care if he’s going to be emperor someday.”

Jun may have no love for Sho, but he wasn’t raised to be a traitor. Killing Sho would lead to nothing. An emperor-to-be’s death didn’t mean he’d be graciously welcomed back to his throne.

His people thought he was dead. If he killed Sho and word reached Saiph, Rina would simply take credit for it to cement her claim, and it would leave Jun facing execution in the hands of his enemy.

He was no fool. He knew that if he intended to survive and reclaim his birthright, he could only attain it with Sho alive. If Sho had to die at one point, it had to be at the right moment.

Not now. Not soon.

“If it’s any consolation, Aiba-chan, I think if one of them ends up dead, it’d be him,” Ikuta said.

“Him, or the three of us,” Aiba said. “His Highness will have us killed.”

“If he kills us, he loses his first lieutenant, his second lieutenant, and one of his sergeants. Don’t suppose his captain would like that very much,” Ikuta said. “We don’t have a lot of men we can trust.”

“And you suggested we trust him,” Aiba said. “The Saiphan, of all people.”

“I think he knows something we don’t,” Kazama said. He didn’t seem very observant, but Jun realized that was all a facade. “Something that makes him keep his cards close. Had the rest of shipyard workers joined in today, no matter how strong and capable he was, he would have still been brought down eventually.” Kazama spared him a glance. “He knew that.”

“He told me he could fight his own battles,” Ikuta said.

“This is another battle entirely,” Aiba said.

“But that’s not for us to worry about,” Ikuta said. “He won’t lay a hand on His Highness.” Ikuta looked at Jun. “The very idea of it makes you shudder, doesn’t it?”

Jun looked at the three men surrounding him. What kind of sick game was this? They were putting Jun right in the center of the lion’s den and making bets on whether he survives or not. “How do you know I won’t let him die? With everyone in this camp, there’s no other person who hates your emperor-to-be more than I do.”

Aiba, Ikuta, and Kazama all looked at one another, and Jun saw Aiba shaking his head firmly.

“No, and that’s final,” Aiba said, and when Ikuta opened his mouth again, Aiba reiterated, “I said no, Toma.”

Ikuta stood down and inclined his head in apology.

Aiba turned to Kazama. “Did the captain already return from the surveillance mission?”

Kazama nodded. “They were delayed, but they made the trip back with only a few casualties.”

“Few?” Aiba repeated.

Kazama suddenly appeared grim. “We lost one ship.”

Aiba nodded. “That’s few, considering how it could’ve played out.” To Ikuta, he said, “Take Matsumoto to the captain.”

“His Highness won’t be pleased to know where you transferred him. You’re really trusting him to carry weapons?” Ikuta asked, but he already moved to guide Jun out of Aiba’s settlement.

“Better that than your idea of entrusting him with the Emperor Apparent’s life,” Aiba said. “If he goes haywire and starts shooting people, at least his target is not our future ruler.”

--

The garrison was located on the other edge of the camp, a half-finished wall of unpolished ore serving as its border. The captain of Sho’s camp was a man with a red cloak and wore a pair of goggles as he commanded the men to put their backs into whatever morning activity they’d been tasked to do. Ikuta drew attention with his approach; the men didn’t pause in their work, but Jun caught some of them glancing at the captain’s direction every now and then.

Ikuta explained the recent development, and the captain simply nodded.

“Matsumoto,” Ikuta said, “you’re no longer part of the lieutenant’s jurisdiction. If anything happens, you report to the captain now. Your days in the storage dome are also over; you sleep where the captain puts you.” Ikuta exchanged a nod with the captain. “He’s all yours, Ohno-kun.”

Ikuta departed after, and Jun looked at Ohno, who appeared to study him.

“You’re the talk of the camp,” Ohno said.

“Whatever you heard, it’s not true,” Jun said. Whether he was a deserter or a traitor or the Emperor Apparent’s new lover, Jun was growing sick of it.

“I’ve heard lots of things,” Ohno said. “But I think I’ll go see Yoko later to find out the truth. You look like you could use some ice for that cheek.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jun said. If he tended to his cheek, he’d only give most of the men here a reason to put another bruise on it. Better for them to see that Jun already had one.

Ohno stood, his cloak standing out in the surroundings of snow, and Jun saw the cybernetic red arm for the first time. Ohno had it hidden under his robe earlier, and while he was shorter in stature than Jun, the arm was intimidating.

“Yeah,” Ohno said as he took in Jun’s expression, “it does that.” He waved his metal arm for emphasis before walking. “I’ll show you around so you’ll know where to go. Unlike Aiba-chan, I don’t have a Toma to help me around.”

Jun followed Ohno around the camp, not making eye contact with any of the men as he did. Unlike Aiba’s sentry, this part of the camp didn’t have a storage dome that kept its goods segregated. It was one big dumpsite, and it looked like it wouldn’t change soon.

“I usually send some men to tidy up in here,” Ohno said. “They treat it as a punishment. It’s mundane, unproductive work, sorting and sifting through this camp’s garbage. If you start a fight like you did today in the shipyard, you’ll find yourself here in no time.”

The storage dome didn’t seem like much of a threat at first glance, but Jun had a feeling it housed the kind of work that would drive him mad since he wouldn’t see the end of it until Ohno was satisfied.

Ohno kept leading him around, showing him the lines of tents where the men slept, a space found at the edge of the campsite where a barren field could be seen beyond.

“Since the tents are small, I put two men in one. I’ll find someone I can saddle with you soon enough,” Ohno explained.

“A former soldier?” Jun asked. “In case I’d try anything funny?”

“Tempting,” Ohno said. “The word from Aiba’s sentry is that you’re not a team player. You’re an isolate, a man with no home who got provoked into hurting one of my own because he called out a truth. Was that hearsay?”

Jun averted his gaze, and Ohno resumed walking. Ohno was a Hamali, and his loyalty, like every Hamali Jun had met in this camp, was to its people.

“You have no allies here,” Ohno told him. “You’re the only Saiphan in this camp, and if you plan to stage a mutiny by rallying these criminals that now surround you, most of them have no love for your planet and its military, being the cause of their exile in the first place. Nothing too different from your case, I suppose.”

“I don’t have a deathwish,” Jun said. The moment he opened his mouth in front of Ohno’s men, he’d be lucky if he could get a word out before one of them had his throat slit. The hatred for Saiphans was a trait the Hamali shared with almost any outlaw in the galaxy.

Ohno stopped and faced him, a slight frown on his features. “Really? I would have assumed otherwise, with the way His Highness keeps baiting you into situations you can’t escape.”

Jun stilled. He hadn’t seen it like that.

“You seem surprised,” Ohno said. “You shouldn’t be. His Highness has been playing a long, drawn out game for years. He’s only gotten better at it as he got older.”

Ohno continued walking without waiting for a response, and Jun trudged after him with the familiar feeling of resignation in his gut.

--

Jun found himself drawing forth his military training as the days went on. As part of their training, Ohno’s men often had to run around the camp without their coats on, a test of their endurance against the growing cold that plagued the planet. The garrison was equipped with all kinds of weapons—from traditional blades to the contemporary sabers, an artillery of phasers and plasma guns that Jun wasn’t given permission to use.

Jun had spent his first few days under Ohno’s watch being transferred to various tents given the men’s utter dislike for him. If Aiba’s sentry had resolved themselves with glares and scoffs, Ohno’s garrison of outlaws had no room for honor. Jun had experienced returning to his tent to find his sleeping bag upturned, his few belongings noticeably sifted through. The gloves he’d procured from Aiba’s sentry had been stolen on his third day, and he’d made do with the roll of bandages that he’d found in the storage dome.

The cold became something he’d gotten used to the more he had to endure. His blisters from the shipyard had transformed into scabs, and peeling them away one by one revealed small pinkish scars. Jun no longer possessed the hands of a future monarch; he had the hands of a laborer, of someone who had to earn enough for the day to secure food on his plate.

His body was starting to adapt to the harsh environment as well. The muscle pain only lasted for the first few weeks since Jun had to strain himself in order to keep up with everybody else. When he’d been falling behind, the men had seen it as an excuse to mock him, to take a portion of his food for themselves, claiming he hadn’t earned all of it. When he’d began to keep up, they had started to take him more seriously, no longer provoking him outright.

Most of the time, Jun had to pretend that he was deaf. The men around him were outlaws, and slander was a common offense. They were men loyal to no one save themselves, their camaraderie only a matter of consequence given the similarities in their situations. Jun had heard all kinds of speculations about him—his crimes, his motives, his position in the camp. After the incident in the shipyard, he’d willed himself to act like he couldn’t hear a thing so as not to draw too much attention to himself.

He was aware of the looks he’d been getting as of late. While Aiba’s sentry had nothing but disdain for him, the reception from Ohno’s garrison was mixed. Some eyed him with curiosity, others with contempt. Some appraised him like he was something to be had, and others stared at him as if they were sizing him up.

He wondered how many of these men had an inkling as to his true identity. While he was certain he’d never seen most of them in the Saiphan court, still, he had been a public figure. Perhaps some of the looks he’d been garnering as of late were those trying to gauge his value.

Jun was on his fifth week in Ohno’s garrison when he finally crossed paths with Ninomiya, who eyed him like they were old acquaintances. He was on inventory duty when Ninomiya turned up, asking about the progress.

“Saiphan,” Ninomiya said in greeting, “we meet again.” He looked delighted.

Jun noticed that Ninomiya had gained a bit of muscle since they’d last seen one another. “Master swindler,” he said in reply.

Ninomiya smiled. “I’ve been looking for you since I heard that you got transferred here. They said you socked one of them in the face.”

“It was provoked,” Jun said.

“So it’s true,” Ninomiya said, grinning wider. “Some of the men don’t believe it. Most of the men here don’t; they think you are incapable of throwing a punch given how...delicate you appear to them.”

“I’m delicate?” Jun asked, frowning.

“That’s the impression you left when you were allowed to work in the camp while basking in the princeling’s favor,” Ninomiya said. “Speaking of the princeling, how is he?”

“I don’t know,” Jun said. “I haven’t seen him in months.”

“There’s talk among the men that he’s been leaving the camp more frequently,” Ninomiya told him. “Not that it’s surprising; I suppose even a backwater planet such as this still requires the presence of a future monarch in their state affairs.” Ninomiya looked at the pad in his hands and snorted. “The captain put you in inventory?”

“He needed someone who can read and write in Hamali,” Jun said. “He told me the report is for the future emperor’s eyes.”

Ninomiya smiled, in the lecherous manner that Jun had gotten used to whenever he’d mention the Emperor Apparent. “And you’re to personally report this to the princeling?”

“I don’t tumble with him in his bed,” Jun said, annoyed. “You saw how he treated me when we got here.”

“I saw how you provoked him, yes,” Ninomiya said. “I thought you were either very brave or incredibly stupid to hurl an insult to his face, but seeing as you’re still alive, I wonder which is it.”

Jun thought Sho was only keeping him alive for his amusement. Sho wanted to see how long he’d last. He was alive partly because he’d been stubborn enough to not choose death when it would’ve been the wiser choice.

“I heard you punched the foreman,” Ninomiya said.

“I didn’t,” Jun denied quickly. “It was another worker. Whatever you heard about that incident, it was embellished.”

Ninomiya hummed. “And that went unpunished by the princeling? When you hurt one of his own? Aiba’s men consisted of the Hamali most loyal to the princeling.”

Jun took note of Ninomiya’s complete lack of respect to the authority present in this camp. “This is the punishment.”

“Inventory? Counting how many armors are there in the supply closet, whether or not they have enough ammo to fight an impending war?” Ninomiya scoffed. “Come now, you don’t think this is all there is to it. Each one of us under the captain’s authority knows why they sent you here.”

Jun instinctively braced himself for an attack. To his knowledge, he was alone with Ninomiya in this section of the storage dome, but Ninomiya had been part of Ohno’s garrison far longer than Jun had. If Ninomiya had made friends, Jun had no idea who they might be.

“And what’s that?” he asked anyway, despite being certain of the answer.

“You hurt one of them, you’re as good as dead,” Ninomiya said. “They just don’t want to do the dirty work so they sent you here amongst us criminals. It’s only a matter of time, don’t you think?”

“Have you come here to murder me?” Jun asked. Unlike the last time he’d been in a similar situation, he’d seen this one coming. He knew it would be soon.

Ninomiya tilted his head. “No,” he said after a moment. “I’m not a killer. I steal, I cheat, I lie, but killing is another matter entirely. Just because I’m stuck in the camp of the losing side doesn’t mean I have to stoop so low.”

“I didn’t take you for someone who has a sense of honor,” Jun admitted, a little surprised by Ninomiya’s answer.

“Of course not,” Ninomiya said. He seemed amused. “You haven’t changed since we met, Saiphan. You still say what’s on your mind, and frankly, I’m surprised you only got into one fight despite having a mouth like that.”

“I was goaded into throwing that punch,” Jun said.

“You’ll be goaded into worse as the days go by,” Ninomiya said. “Consider that as your warning. I’m not your friend, but you did let me have the heater to myself at that time and didn’t utter a word of complaint. I don’t forget things like that.”

“Like kindness, you mean?” Jun asked.

“No, that wasn’t kindness,” Ninomiya said, shaking his head. “That was endurance. You’re a fighter, Matsumoto. I know a fighter when I see one.” He tilted his chin towards the pad in Jun’s hands. “The captain has been pestering me to find a partner among his men since their only suitable stealth ship here can’t fly without a co-pilot.”

Jun stood there with the pad in his hands, waiting.

“You can fly a ship manufactured by your own planet,” Ninomiya said.

“Yes,” Jun said anyway, despite Ninomiya not posing it as a question. He knew what kind of ship Ninomiya meant. Saiph was the pioneer in manufacturing state-of-the-art spaceships. A part of him was curious as to how Sho’s camp had managed to procure a Saiphan ship, given their people’s hatred for Jun’s.

But not even their enemies could deny the excellence in their craftsmanship, Jun thought. If Sho wanted to win a war, he needed the best ships the galaxy had to offer. It was an unlikely thought, that someone like Sho would forsake his pride, but may be he was fit to lead an army more than Jun had imagined him to be.

Ninomiya grinned. “I’ll leave you to your inventory. I have to tell the captain that I found a partner. Unless you’re backing out?”

“Why would I back out?” Jun asked. If Ohno approved of Ninomiya’s proposal, Jun would have his first chance at an escape if Ninomiya cooperated. He’d worry about it when he gets there.

“Because it’s a suicide mission for you,” Ninomiya said. “We’re going to the capital. A Saiphan right in the middle of the enemy territory.” Ninomiya met his gaze. “I told you, I’m not your friend.”

“Are you helping the Hamali orchestrate my murder?” Jun asked.

“I’m being practical,” Ninomiya said. “I can fly a ship, but a high-class Saiphan ship is another matter. I need someone who knows the intricacies of that ship and can operate her with ease. You’re the best candidate, given your origin.”

Jun couldn’t fault his logic. He doubted there’d be anyone in this camp who could operate a ship that advanced. He knew how because of privilege, because a prince like him was entitled to the fastest and most advanced ships on his planet. He doubted the ship in this camp was better than any of those he’d owned, though.

Ninomiya was watching him, and Jun had to ask.

“Why are we sneaking into this planet’s capital?” Jun asked. It didn’t make sense—none of it made sense, in fact. This camp warded off any signals thanks to the unpolished ores surrounding its area—it couldn’t be found by any tracking device no matter how advanced the technology might be. For all Jun knew, this camp was operating in secret, led by its future emperor.

Ninomiya studied him, a slight furrow between his brows. Then he seemed to have understood something. “No one told you.”

“No one told me what?” Jun almost sighed; no one tells him anything. That seemed to be the universal rule in this place: keep the Saiphan in the dark.

“Who did you think the princeling was preparing to fight?” Ninomiya asked. “Your people?” He let out a chuckle. “You said it yourself on the day we got here: Hamal can’t sustain a war with your planet.”

Jun straightened. His stomach twisted at the realization.

“Don’t you see? Hamal is preparing to fight herself,” Ninomiya said, his gaze now somewhere distant. “The princeling is preparing for civil war.”

--

Ninomiya left him to finish his inventory check, and when Jun visited Ohno to personally hand him the report, Ninomiya was there, tinkering with what seemed to be a cloaking device.

“He’s got skilled hands,” Ohno said when he noticed Jun watching. “It’s why I keep him around despite the complaints about his foul mouth and quick hands.”

“Thievery even in a camp of outlaws?” Jun asked curiously.

“I call it being busy,” Ninomiya said. “The captain is against it, by the way. He thinks I shouldn’t bring you along and find someone else.”

Jun turned to Ohno, who was picking at dirt stuck to his cybernetic arm. The color was still distracting; before Jun could see Ohno, he always looked at the arm first.

“His Highness doesn’t know of this mission,” Ohno said, surprising Jun. “I have some suspicions that he dismissed the last time we talked about it. He told me not to do anything rash, and that was the last he wanted to know about it.”

“Then why act on it despite his orders?” Jun asked. “He’s your superior. You would defy your future emperor?”

“For his own safety? Yes,” Ohno said without hesitation. “He doesn’t think it’s possible. Which is why I’m acting on my own, with the help of Nino here.”

Jun merely blinked at the familiarity in Ohno’s tone. Ninomiya had spent a longer time in this side of the camp than he did. If he’d made friends even with the captain, that was no longer Jun’s business.

Jun cast a sideways glance in Ninomiya’s direction. The man kept tinkering with tiny gears and shifts, but there was a small smile on his face. He was listening in, like he often did back when Jun had shared a cell with him.

“What exactly are you asking Ninomiya to do?” Jun asked. It was a better question than any other alternatives formulating in Jun’s mind. He had suspicions, but Ohno was proving to be harder to read than most Hamali Jun had met.

With the exception of Sho, of course.

“Intel,” Ohno replied. “It’s a surveillance job in the capital, in the royal palace. I’m under specific orders not to leave this camp in His Highness’ absence—”

“He’s in the capital?” Jun asked. No wonder there hadn’t been any summonings that only served to mock Jun and where he was at present.

Ohno didn’t look offended at the interruption. “He’s emperor-to-be. He has many places he ought to be in.”

“Of course,” Jun said. He understood the responsibilities, the neverending duties. They had been his, once. There had been a time when he and Sho had belonged in the same world.

Jun studied Ohno, at the far-off look in his eyes, and said, “You’re worried.”

It won him a slight frown from Ohno. “The men at the shipyard implied you were rather dim-witted. But you’re proving them otherwise.”

“Are you terrified of discovery?” Jun asked, ignoring Ohno’s blatant observation. He’d gotten accustomed to men here putting him down. He didn’t like it, but there was no point in answering back. It would just earn him a visit to Okada. “This camp operates in secret, with you and Aiba in charge in the event that the Emperor Apparent is somewhere else. Are you afraid this camp’s whereabouts will be discovered by the same people you’re rising to fight against?”

“That’s only secondary to my worries,” Ohno said. Their gazes met. “Nino says he wants you because you know what to do and he claims you think on your feet.”

The idea made Jun sick in the stomach. “You think there’s a traitor.” The camp was operating in secret, but Sho couldn’t be the only one in the palace who knew about its existence. An emperor-to-be was surrounded by people he trusted.

“Sho-kun trusts his people. It’s an admirable thing about him, but he trusts blindly. He can recognize the signs of deception, but if it’s from someone close to him, he will dismiss it, treat it as mere paranoia.” Ohno looked angry now, his features hard. “More so when it’s family.”

“So you asked Ninomiya to fly to the capital and collect intel? Act as your spy?” Jun asked. It would fail. Ninomiya may be street-smart, made sharp by the years he’d spent swindling people in the outer rim, but it would take a very convincing lie or disguise for them to enter the royal palace. Jun could see many holes in the plan—Sho had been right telling Ohno not to act rashly.

Ohno didn’t appear to be aware of Jun’s concerns. “I asked Nino if he could fly a ship.”

“To spy on the people in the Hamali court,” Jun said.

“To take me there so I can watch over Sho-kun myself,” Ohno said.

Jun took a second to hide his surprise at the display of loyalty from Ohno. He had no one like that. Back in Saiph, he had his family, his father the king, a half-sister who had lived in the outer moons. His mother had passed not long after Jun had come of age. He had no one but the people Rina had taken away from him.

The rush of envy was difficult to ignore.

“Nino told me he needed a co-pilot after I showed him the ship. You Saiphans make very complicated algorithms in the programs for your ships. They’re high-class, but it makes the ships difficult to pilot unless the one in the cockpit knew what he was doing.” Ohno’s eyes were hard on him. “You can pilot one, of course.”

“Of course,” Jun said.

“We risk drawing attention if I bring you along,” Ohno said.

Jun cast a pointed look at Ohno’s metal arm. Combined with the long, flowing red cape, all the attention would definitely be on them.

“But if you bring him along, captain, we’ll get there sooner,” Ninomiya said. He hadn’t looked up from what he was doing, still hunched over the cloaking device. “Just in time for you to watch over the precious princeling.”

“He’s not a princeling,” Ohno said.

Ninomiya only smiled, hands making quick work. Something told Jun that this was a common occurrence between Ninomiya and the captain: Ohno would correct Ninomiya and his corrections would all be ignored.

“What if he doesn’t leave the ship?” Ninomiya suggested. “You don’t need manpower; you just need pilots. We park the ship somewhere close to the palace, you go do whatever you think you need to do.”

Ohno studied Jun for a long moment, almost enough for Jun to feel self-conscious.

“He’s really not the one you should be worried about,” Ninomiya said.

“If you two escape, Sho-kun will have my head,” Ohno said.

“Assuming he still possesses a head,” Ninomiya pointed out. “Do you think we’ll try to escape?”

“Yes,” Ohno answered. “Only a fool wouldn’t see that as an opportunity.”

Jun averted his eyes. If he tried to escape, there’d be nothing for him. He was a dead man with no home, no family, no birthright. He only had a name, and he shared it with a dead future monarch, branded as a traitor and a coward for all he knew.

There was nothing left for him. If his last stand was going to be helping a man get to the heart of his enemy’s territory to save a friend, he wouldn’t mind it. If Ninomiya proposed an escape, he’d likely turn it down. He had nowhere to go, and no one wanted him back.

“I won’t run off,” Ninomiya declared. It made Jun whip his head to stare at the man in shock. “I won’t,” Ninomiya repeated at the look on Ohno’s face. “And that’s only because I know that if I do, the bounty on me will be activated again, and it’ll be such a short life of freedom. I’ll be behind bars in the high prison before the week is up.”

Ohno was silent for a couple of minutes. He looked older with the goggles set on of his forehead. When he spoke next, he was looking at Jun. “And you? I still don’t understand why you agreed to this. You’re a Saiphan, and you have to be mad to willingly go to the capital of the planet that hates your kind the most.”

“Then you have your answer,” Jun said. If he died, that was that. It had been months in this camp, and it was only sheer stubbornness that was keeping Jun alive. He wasn’t a quitter, but remembering that his own sister had betrayed him and had murdered their father made things harder to bear.

“What’s in it for you?” Ohno asked. “You want to die? After weeks of surviving here, of standing against men who tried to rob you, goad you, you choose to die like this?”

“It’s happened to me before,” Jun said. Ohno was frowning in confusion, and Ninomiya was intently listening despite not looking at Jun directly. “I know how it feels.”

An understanding crossed Ohno’s features. “I never asked how you found yourself here.”

“I trusted blindly,” Jun said. It was all he could admit.

“You have no love for my future ruler,” Ohno said.

“That’s true,” Jun affirmed. “But I’m not so sick that I would wish for anyone to experience what I have.”

Silence fell among them, with Jun trying to not remember that night. It still hurt. He never knew what he’d done for Rina to hate him so.

“We leave tonight,” Ohno said suddenly. “Meet me in the clearing at the edge of the camp. I’ll make sure it’s abandoned. You’ll find the ship there. You get her ready and wait for me. You’re dismissed, both of you.”

Ninomiya smiled triumphantly, shooting Ohno a rather cheeky salute. He left then, and Jun found himself watching Ohno for a moment.

Ohno looked at him questioningly.

“You never trusted me,” Jun said. “Not from day one. Why the change of heart?”

“Our people always saw you as merciless, bloodthirsty murderers who had no regard for family,” Ohno said. “But I’ve never thought they could do it to their own.”

“Are you feeling sympathy for me, captain?”

Ohno regarded him for a moment.

“Yes,” Ohno said, turning away. “Every man should have a place to belong.”

He waved his hand, and Jun left.

--

He and Ninomiya slipped away separately, with Ninomiya telling him he should head off first. It was dinner and the men were tired from the day’s work, but nobody was complaining. The drills were particularly harsh today, with Ohno firing off commands and telling his men to move it when the pace got too slow for his preference. Jun had perspired despite the cold weather, had felt the familiar ache in his muscles when he’d put his back into it.

Jun reached the clearing after going around the camp, past the storage domes that nobody watched except for their entrance. The men on patrol were from Aiba’s sentry, but they had been wrapped up in tales from their side of the camp that they’d hardly noticed Jun when he’d come past them. It hadn’t been easy, but Jun had kept his footsteps light, his movements unhurried. Ohno had been teaching them that since Jun had gotten transferred.

The ship was old. Not rotting but old, her paint darkened by use. If she’d been purchased, Jun presumed she was secondhand, for he’d handled better, newer models. There was a lever instead of a console beside her hatch that should prompt for an identity, and Jun was able to slip inside the ship without any difficulties.

He powered it on and activated the cloaking before starting his inspection. It was his habit, to check the ship’s provisions before its departure, and he wasn’t surprised to find it moderately stocked. Enough to last them a week at most.

Ohno’s absence for an entire week would surely be noticed, but that wasn’t for Jun to worry about. His job was to take the captain to the capital, nothing more.

He was seated in the cockpit when he heard footsteps, and looking over his shoulder revealed Ninomiya.

Ninomiya took a seat on the co-pilot’s chair, making himself comfortable before he spoke. “He didn’t think you’d be nice.”

Jun frowned. “What?”

“The captain,” Ninomiya said. “He looked genuinely surprised when you gave him your reason earlier.”

“I meant it,” Jun said.

“I know you did,” Ninomiya told him. “We go way back, Matsumoto. From a dilapidated handler ship to a semi-decent one.” He patted on the console in front of him for emphasis. “Soon we’ll be flying fighter crafts.”

“If the war happens,” Jun pointed out.

“It’s happening already,” Ninomiya said. “What sort of captain leaves his camp for his king? He has other fears he’s not telling us.”

Jun shrugged. “Not my business to know.”

“That’s your flaw right there,” Ninomiya said, pointing at him. “You don’t think it’s your business. You don’t pry, you don’t ask unless the matter involves you.”

“It’s not my war we’re fighting,” Jun said.

“You’re part of this even if you tell yourself otherwise. You’ve been part of it since you came here, since he put us in that cell together, since you refused to translate for him the language of the outlaws.” Ninomiya regarded him. “If he wins this war, he’ll be fighting your planet next.”

“He will lose,” Jun said. “If he wins against his own planet, he will lose against mine.”

“We’ll get to that if he wins,” Ninomiya said. “But we’re part of this now, you and I, and maybe it’s time for you to ask the right questions instead of playing safe. You’re no longer a mere survivor here; you’re starting to become a key player.”

“Thanks to you.”

“You have your uses, Saiphan. I admit that the princeling is smarter than me because it never made sense before why he kept you alive despite your constant defiance. But now I get it, and that’s partly the reason why I want to see how he’ll participate in this war.”

“He kept me alive because it amuses him,” Jun said. “There’s no other reason for it. I’m his form of entertainment when he’s so far from his court that he can’t call on the palace jester.”

Ninomiya smiled. “Maybe, maybe not. I still think there’s more to this, Matsumoto. I have to agree you’re entertaining, but there’s got to be more to it. He’s keeping you alive for a reason.”

“We’ll never be privy to that,” Jun said. “Not when he’ll have us all killed as soon as he discovers what we’re about to do.”

“The captain is as interesting as the man he’s loyal to, won’t you agree?” Ninomiya let out a laugh. “I never dealt with Hamali before, but the way they think is pretty straightforward; it’s both predictable and amusing.”

Straightforward? That made Jun frown. He could understand Ohno’s reasons. Even Aiba, Ikuta, Kazama, and the one they called Yoko had done things that were justifiable upon consideration.

There was only one Hamali Jun couldn’t figure out, and he was also the one Ohno was desperately trying to protect. From what, Jun didn’t know. But perhaps the Hamali court was a pit of vipers.

Ohno had been right: Jun had to be mad to willingly step foot in all this.

They heard the thudding of boots against the metal floor not long after, and Ninomiya straightened in his seat, making it look like they weren’t conversing about Ohno’s intentions a moment ago. When Jun turned, Ohno had dressed down, his red cape replaced by a duller beige, and he’d worn a long tunic to cover most of his metal arm.

Jun was dressed in a similar manner, in a coat that barely kept him warm, with a tattered tunic that would soon fail in covering him up. He’d been growing in build since he’d gotten transferred to Ohno’s garrison, and the material of his tunic was already stretching around his shoulders and arms.

Ohno carried a pack with him, one that he held under his arm.

“I trust you didn’t come across one of Aiba-chan’s on your way here?” Ohno asked.

Jun shook his head just as Ninomiya laughed.

Of the two of them, Jun always thought it would be Ninomiya who’d get punched first because of how cheeky he was. Odd that it had been him in a shipyard instead of Ninomiya in a garrison full of men who had no honor.

Taking Ninomiya’s answer for a yes, Ohno nodded to him. “Nino, you told me you can navigate.”

“You will have to tell me exactly where the drop-off point is,” Ninomiya said. “I don’t know the territory. This is your home court.”

“We have to hide the ship, so it’ll be best to put her on the side of the cliffs,” Ohno said. Jun recalled that the royal palace of Hamal was situated atop a high cliff that consisted of lime- and sandstone, its walls carved out of the same rock infused with marble to make it sturdier. It made the palace shine under the sunlight, an eyecatcher despite the state of the planet it was found on.

Jun thought it was fitting in a planet where looks could be deceiving. Ohno hadn’t looked like it, but here he was, disobeying a direct order because he had believed otherwise.

“From there,” Ohno continued, “I’m on my own. Guard the ship.”

“You don’t have to tell us that,” Ninomiya said. “Setting course.” Ninomiya manned his side of the console with adept hands, and at his nod, Jun reassessed the coordinates and took the ship to the sky.

The constellations found in Hamal were foreign to Jun, and for a moment, it was easy to pretend that he was simply in one of his leisure trips around their territory. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the outer moons, the pleasure planetoids. He’d been to so many of them, a luxury he once could afford.

“At this speed I expect us to be there in four hours,” Ohno told them. His voice sent Jun back to reality, and Jun looked at his calloused palms and the faded scars on his fingers. He was no longer a prince. “In the meantime, change into these.”

Ohno dropped the pack he’d been carrying, and Jun saw leather upon leather—clothes befitting a mercenary for hire or a pirate.

He looked at Ohno with a frown. “You really saw this through.”

“I take no chances,” Ohno said. “If this all goes downhill, you can’t tarnish Sho-kun’s reputation. No one can know what he has in the outskirts.”

“So you’re disguising us as outlaws instead of men who are part of the army he’s secretly mobilizing,” Ninomiya said, laughing. “Clever. Did you learn that trick from the princeling?”

“Get dressed,” was all Ohno said, leaving them with a swish of his cloak.

Ninomiya had a palm extended towards the set of clothes Ohno had given them. “After you.”

Jun perused over the items without another word, and when he decided, he left Ninomiya in the cockpit to change.

--

Four hours ETA meant that Ohno had time to brief them a little on what they should expect. Jun felt trapped in layers of thick leather—these were clothes of desert people. Saiph had no desert. It had lush green and meadows that nearly touched the azure sky if you looked out to the horizon. The more foreign Jun’s clothing became, the further he felt from his home. Subconsciously, he still called Saiph his home. He had known nowhere else.

He had a worn down leather jacket on, dyed in faded purple. The edges of sleeves were beginning to chip off, showing what must have been brilliant craftsmanship. But the clothes had seen better days, and they felt scratchy and suffocating. When Jun moved, he felt he was in another person’s body. Every step felt detached.

Ninomiya was dressed in similar garments, only that his gave the impression of a pirate than a desert wanderer. He wore leather but of a longer cut, his coat running down to the back of his thighs. When Ninomiya sat on the co-pilot’s seat, he did it with a foot placed forward, his wrist resting on the armrest.

Like a king, Jun thought. He had sat like that. Once, in another time.

Jun had to look away. Ohno stood in front of them, leaning against the navigation console. The threat he carried in Sho’s camp lessened without the red cape, but Jun knew he was just as lethal. He wouldn’t be captain if he hadn’t had the chance to prove himself.

“I’m expecting it won’t be easy,” Ohno told them.

Nothing ever is, Jun thought. Not here. Hamal was traditional and unyielding, forged by pride and honor, never to forget a slight. If Jun had insulted emperor-to-be Sakurai Sho in front of the Hamali court, he would not have left alive.

“But I can slip into the palace unnoticed,” Ohno said. “I have done it before. I will find Sho-kun, tell him of my suspicions.”

“And what of us?” Ninomiya asked. “Are we supposed to wait beside a wall of rock, cloaked and praying for your patrolling guards to not spot us?” He smiled. “We could run, you know.”

“Yet you’ve given me your word that you won’t,” Ohno said to him. “You’re a smart man, Nino. Perhaps smarter than the Saiphan here, who came anyway despite knowing that the sight of him will be enough to call for a death sentence.”

“If I stayed behind, I would be killed eventually,” Jun said. He knew it to be true. Without the Emperor Apparent’s protection, he had Ohno’s ever-watchful eye on him. Even Ninomiya’s stealthy gaze was on him. It served as his defenses somehow, surviving this long in a camp full of his enemies.

Take away all of that and he’d perhaps be found at the edge of the camp with his throat slit, eyes wide in horror, the very few belongings he had missing.

“Not as stupid as you thought, captain,” Ninomiya said, amused. “He goes where he’s got higher chances. As we all.”

“Perhaps,” Ohno agreed after a moment. “I will go alone. The royal palace can be reached on foot from where we’ll be landing, but do not make the attempt. I’ve dressed you like outlaws and threw away the clothes you wore earlier. If you are spotted in the city, you will be taken to the dungeons.”

“Matsumoto and I are quite familiar with dungeons, thanks to the princeling’s hospitality,” Ninomiya said. “We’re not so keen to visit one anytime soon.”

Months ago, Jun would have hated someone speaking for him. But now he could only nod. If Sho were here to witness it, he would have laughed.

Ohno still appeared doubtful over Ninomiya’s words and Jun’s intentions, and Jun knew nothing else could sway him unless he sees it for himself. Ohno was a man of action and of few words. He wasn’t the kind of captain you’d send in for diplomacy. You would send him to the fray after giving him a single order: to destroy.

To see him weighing in his decisions and possibly thinking ahead on the consequences was unsettling. Jun had watched him on the first month. Pondering over matters was something Ohno rarely did. The last time he’d done so, it had been to settle a squabble over food rations. Ohno had listened to each of the men, both the offender and the offended, and when they’d finished speaking, Jun had watched as Ohno had asked the offender to draw a weapon.

The air had gone still then, and whoever hadn’t been watching had their eyes fixed on Ohno.

Out of pride, the offender had done as asked. And he’d lost, all with Ohno not using his cybernetic arm. Ohno had done nothing that warranted a visit to the infirmary, but the threat had been clear: any more of this nonsense and he wouldn’t hesitate.

The same unwavering determination was what Jun could see whenever he looked at the captain. Jun wished he had become someone who could inspire such loyalty and dedication. Perhaps it would have saved his life.

“Then our landing point is the same as our rendezvous,” Ohno said. He looked over the console, at Ninomiya’s calculations. Jun had checked them twice, and he had to admit, they were better than his own. Ninomiya had factored in all unexpected possibilities—a snow storm, a thunderstorm, even a meteor shower. The equations were exact and left marginal room for error.

“How long do we wait for you before we assume the worst?” Ninomiya asked.

“I’ve synced my comms with this ship. We will be in constant communication, and you will know then,” Ohno said. “If you leave without us, I will know. And as soon as I have Sho-kun secured, I will find you myself. Both of you.”

“Flattering,” Ninomiya said. He didn’t appear threatened despite having seen what Ohno could do. Jun remembered his presence there, lurking in the shadows, ever observant.

“How many hours till drop-off?” Ohno asked.

“Two and a half,” Jun answered. “You really have no intentions of telling us about the danger we might face?”

Ohno turned to him, a slight furrow formed between his eyebrows. “As long as you don’t remove the cloaking, nobody will find you.”

“Unless they expect us to come,” Jun said. “You told us you suspect there are traitors in the palace, close to the emperor-to-be, and that he didn’t take your word for it. If your assumptions prove to be true, it might be too late.”

“No,” Ohno said firmly. “No, it won’t. We will get there in time. I won’t have him die.”

It was the only sentence that they could give Sho if it was discovered that he was mobilizing an army to counter the royal family’s own in the outskirts of his own planet. Treason amounted to death, no matter the location or the situation.

“And if you die instead?” Ninomiya asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ohno answered immediately.

“Very well,” Jun said, removing the ship on autopilot to give himself something to do. “We will wait for you.”

“Until dawn of the following day,” Ohno said. “If we are not here by then, go back to the camp, tell Aiba-chan everything.” Jun noticed that Ohno was looking at him and not at Ninomiya.

“You expect me to return to your camp in the event that we leave you and the Emperor Apparent for dead?” Jun was bewildered. No one had put that kind of trust in him before, not in Hamal.

And yet here was Ohno.

“Yes,” Ohno replied.

“Why?”

“Because you know how it feels to be betrayed and left to die.”

Jun averted his gaze, instead looking past the glass windows. Hamal lacked the blue skies he’d been used to in his home planet. What it had was a never ending stretch of gray, thin wisps of clouds only thickening to form nimbus and bring thunder and rain.

“Until dawn of the next day,” he said, and all he heard next was the steady hum of the ship.

--

The city of Sheratan was designated as the capital of Hamal, named after the second brightest star in the system following the traditions of the Old World. When Jun caught sight of the city, he was struck by how white everything was. He knew the palace was made of the same stone as the high cliffs where it stood, but he never bothered to learn more about the city it was in. He’d briefly studied Sheratan out of necessity; he figured if he were to visit the planet, it would be to request an audience with the royal family and to make an attempt at diplomacy.

Now he looked past the windows and saw edifices rising from the same rock, albeit lacking the luster that the marble imbued within the palace walls had provided. Even the sands of the beach were white, and it felt like staring at a rising sea foam amidst a canvas of gray and dark green. The sea nearly mirrored the sky in color and intensity, but Jun could see hints of green.

Had Hamal been a planet as bright as Saiph, her seas would have been magnificent.

“There, through the crevice,” Ohno said, pointing ahead.

Jun followed his line of sight, finding a narrow space where their ship could barely fit. To his left, Ninomiya was already doing the calculations, and at the click of his tongue, Jun relinquished control of the ship.

“I can’t land there,” he said. “We won’t fit.” The cloaking would mean nothing if a part of the ship grazed the side of the cliff. It would only take one patrolling soldier to notice that marks they’d leave.

“We will,” Ninomiya said. “I’ll make sure we will. Have the thrusters operate on auxiliary only.”

Jun obeyed, flipping switches and controls. He took hold of the joystick again and took a steady breath.

“Thrusters at five,” Ninomiya said, and Jun could feel how they lost the momentum they had a few seconds ago. They were dropping in altitude and decelerating, and Jun directed all of his attention on landing the ship where Ohno had instructed.

“Steady,” Ninomiya said, eyes narrowed in concentration. He would make a great co-pilot. Jun knew he sat on the pilot’s chair only because he was more familiar with the ship. Given another, it’d be him in Ninomiya’s place. “Steady. Thrusters at three now.”

A little more, and Jun shut his eyes before he let go and pulled the brake. When he opened his eyes again, the ship was perfectly still, hovering a few inches from the ground with her sides unscathed. Jun waited for rockfall and it didn’t come.

Ninomiya stood and began flipping the right switches, the ship powering down to auxiliary. Jun caught him frowning once he began checking the diagnostics.

“We don’t have enough fuel,” Ninomiya said to Ohno. “We will only make it halfway at this rate, and that’s assuming we’re using the same route as we did to get here. If we’re pursued, we will have to make a detour, and we won’t make the return trip.”

“I had the ship fully tanked before I even proposed this plan to you,” Ohno said.

“But you also wanted us to get here as soon as we could,” Jun said after checking if Ninomiya had been telling the truth. He was. “We burned more fuel cells than necessary.”

“Then get more,” Ohno said. “There’s a refuel station at the west of the city, close to the spaceport.” He fished for a small pack from inside his cloak, and tossed something Ninomiya caught with both hands. Jun heard the jingle of coins. “Use that.”

“This is Hamali money,” Ninomiya said. “I am dressed like a pirate, and I will trade with your money?”

“Improvise,” Ohno said. “You claimed you were good at that before you got here.”

Ninomiya turned to Jun. “That leaves you to guard the ship. You’re an eyecatcher even without all the leather, but with it, you’ll barely make five steps inside the gates before men escort you to the dungeons.”

“I would rather remain here,” Jun said honestly. In the ship, he had a bit of food, water, and the means to defend himself should it be necessary. There were phasers in the cargo hold when he’d done the inventory, but Jun didn’t know if they still had power. The ship’s proton missiles, however, were working.

“Then it’s settled. I will remain in constant communication with the ship,” Ohno said, turning to his heel. He departed the cockpit with one last swoosh of his cloak, and soon, they both heard the ship’s main hatch opening.

“I suppose you’re going to ask me to bring a communicator just to be sure?” Ninomiya asked with a smile.

Jun wordlessly reached under the consoles until he found a working one, and he tampered with it until he got it synced to the ship’s communications system. He watched the feed run on the console before handing Ninomiya the device.

“Do you think I’ll run off?” Ninomiya asked, straightening his coat. He looked ridiculous in it; it was dwarfing him in size. But it contributed to his attempt to be inconspicuous. To the unsuspecting, Ninomiya appeared like a trader. If given a second glance, then he would appear to be a pirate.

Jun hoped nobody would bother.

“I think you will,” Jun said. “You have his money.”

“It’s not enough to buy me passage wherever it is I wish to go.”

“But combine the money with your tongue and it is.”

That earned him Ninomiya’s amused grin. “If I run off, he will find me.”

“The galaxy is vast,” Jun said. “It took them years to capture you, and that was simply because you were betrayed.”

“Made a mistake,” Ninomiya corrected. “I’m not the trusting type, Matsumoto, so I can understand where you’re coming from. But you’re not going to stop me?”

“What for? If you run off, you’ll die soon. If you don’t, you still will if the war happens.”

In the end, Jun thought, it was a matter of taking the side that would ensure that they’d live longer. It wasn’t about living and growing old anymore. Ninomiya had been right: they were part of this now. Their mere presence in Sheratan had sealed their fate.

“I’ll be in touch,” was all Ninomiya said, leaving him. “Mind the beach and the skies above us.”

Ninomiya was almost out of the cockpit when Jun heard him speak once more.

“I think this is why the princeling kept you alive, Saiphan.”

Jun didn’t turn and instead asked, “What do you mean?”

“You’re continuously proving to be unpredictable. I thought you’d call upon my honor and the word I gave to the captain.”

“I would have if I thought that method worked on you,” Jun told him.

“I would hate to see you die,” Ninomiya said, surprising him. It was the first time someone in this planet said those words to Jun. “If you were a swindler, I think we could have been competitors.”

He left Jun then, and Jun supposed that was the closest thing to a compliment that he’d receive from someone like Ninomiya.

--

The wait was agonizing.

Jun had done all the work he could think of. He’d mapped out three escape routes, the drop-off points varying in distance from Sho’s camp. He’d checked the weather, the state of the ship, the beach surrounding him. He’d tested out the phasers in the cargo hold and found them working, the two with the highest charges now strapped to his belt.

The communications were intermittently buzzing. From Ohno, all he’d gotten so far were updates on his location, on which parts of the palace he was in. From Ninomiya, he’d received coordinates.

They were both terrible with sending information to the other party, Jun noted. Jun knew where they were thanks to the tracking programmed in their communicators, but their messages served as mere confirmations. He had no idea what was going on, if Ninomiya managed to procure fuel cells to last the journey and if Ohno located the future emperor.

He heard a buzz and faced the console, tuning it to have better reception.

“Matsumoto, are you in the ship?” he heard—Ohno. The feed was choppy, but the edge to his voice was unmistakable.

“Yes. What’s happening?”

“I can’t find him.” Jun heard a rustle followed by voices he didn’t recognize. “He left after telling me to go back, dismissing me immediately. And now he’s gone.”

“You turned off the communicator,” Jun said. It would explain why he’d only received location updates. Whatever Ohno had to say to Sho, he’d intended for it to remain private. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I fear the worst,” Ohno admitted. “Some things here don’t add up. He hasn’t been to the camp because he was advised bed rest for the past few days, kept under tight watch.”

Jun sat still in his chair, dreading what he was about to hear.

“I don’t think he’s sick,” Ohno said. “Someone made him sick to keep him here, and I was only able to talk to him when he had to relieve himself.”

“You think someone’s trying to kill him,” Jun said. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. His dislike for Sho was still not tantamount to wanting to see him dead in the hands of the people he trusted.

The idea of it reminded Jun of his father, and he was momentarily overcome with longing and regret.

“He didn’t listen to me and now he’s missing,” Ohno said. His signal on the console was indicated by a blinking red dot, and Jun watched it constantly move in the palace interior.

Jun took a deep breath, hands flying to his sides to touch the metal of the phasers. They were cold. “What are you asking me to do? I can’t leave the ship. If the guards see me, I’m done for.”

“They won’t see you if you follow exactly what I say,” Ohno said confidently. He spoke like a captain now—authoritative, firm.

Jun remained silent, weighing in the pros and cons. He knew he shouldn’t. Sho wanted him dead. Why should he risk his life to save someone who would kill him in the end?

“Please,” Ohno said, and Jun could hear the desperation. “I know you do not care for him. But if he dies, my planet will, too. He’s the one person preventing us to fall into savagery and eventual ruin.”

Jun had heard of the deaths of planets back when his tutor had talked about the Old World. A planet that had consisted of humans in another galaxy had been first led by curiosity when they’d set out to explore other worlds. They’d learned terraforming, mining, and eventually managed to establish colonies in parts of their galaxy that favored human life.

But they’d gotten greedy. Instead of the pursuit of knowledge, they’d began to visit other planets to expand their territory. It was the beginning of their downfall, Jun’s old tutor had said. Wars had been waged and people had suffered, and now all that remained of the Old World were records of it in history books.

“We have descended from them,” Jun had concluded at that time.

“Why do you say so?” his tutor had asked, curiously.

“We’ve been at odds with Hamal for years because we killed their people and took their lands,” Jun had said. “Isn’t that avarice?”

His tutor had regarded him. “Do not speak these words again, young prince. Your father won’t like them.”

“But it’s the truth,” Jun had said; youth housed an abundance of stubbornness.

“Yes,” his tutor had said, nodding. “We have descended from them. As did the Hamali. Greed lives in us all. The difference is in how we choose to address it.”

The memory was so old and Jun couldn’t recall anything further. But Ohno’s words had resonated in him.

If he dies, my planet will, too.

Had Jun been crowned king, he’d have sworn an oath. As Crown Prince, he’d already groomed himself to follow it. To act to his people’s best interests, to safeguard their lives and their children, to be benevolent as their ruler and formidable as their protector.

He’d been in Sho’s place once. And this time, he could prevent it from happening again.

His voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke.

“Tell me what to do.”

--

If the city hadn’t looked threatening when Jun had landed the ship, that impression only lasted until Jun stepped foot beyond the city gates. He’d thrown a tattered cloak over himself so as not to attract attention, but he felt observed nonetheless. In another life, he would have welcomed the feeling with a confident gait and a proud lift of his chin.

The Hamali in Sheratan weren’t like the men Jun had met in Sho’s camp. Soldiers on patrol stood flanking supply domes, the gates of the marketplace, monuments of the emperors and empresses of old. One in particular caught Jun’s attention, the monument of the current empress—Sho’s mother.

Her ivory statue stood at the center of the city square, flanked by two obelisks. Whoever sculpted her had skill; her face had a hardness that matched her eyes that had been constructed out of obsidian—the only touch of color in her imposing appearance. Jun looked at the statue and felt judged, as if the Empress of Hamal herself was threatening him to abandon what he was planning to do, forbidding him to enter her city.

I didn’t come to invade your land, a part of Jun wanted to say. I’m not here to kill anyone.

“Left,” he heard from the communicator, and he moved to follow. Ohno gave one-worded instructions and didn’t entertain questions. “When you reach the end of the street, head for under the bridge.”

Jun obeyed, careful not to make eye contact with anyone for too long. He kept his steps evenly paced so as not to appear that he was in a hurry.

He had to climb down some stone steps to reach the place Ohno had indicated. His eyes followed the path of a narrow stream, one that interconnected with other channels found all over the city. Jun had seen them congregating in one main duct as Ohno had him look over the city’s blueprint back in the ship, before he’d finally left it to pursue this suicide mission. The duct led to the sea, reaching it as a graceful waterfall arising from the edge of a high cliff.

Sheratan wasn’t as modern and as flourishing as the capital city of Jun’s home planet, but she was beautiful and self-sufficient. Jun had seen that on his way here, and he wanted to tell his tutors long gone how wrong they were in some of their teachings. All his life, he’d been taught that Hamal was the enemy, that she was a decaying, dying planet which wouldn’t put up much of a fight during an invasion. And for a long time, Jun had thought that to be true.

“Are you there?” Ohno asked, and Jun’s focus shifted to him.

“Yes,” he replied. He hid himself under the bridge, his entire body blanketed in shadows in fear of passersby.

“Good,” was all Ohno said, and Jun heard a crack behind him.

He turned, one hand resting on the phaser strapped to his belt. The wall of rock that formed a base of the bridge had disappeared, revealing a narrow corridor beyond. Jun found himself staring at Ohno, standing in what appeared to be a secret passageway that led to the palace.

“Follow me,” Ohno said in person this time, and Jun did.

As soon as he was inside, Ohno tinkered with a console and the wall from before slid back into place.

“You’ve just shown your enemy a secret path that leads to the palace,” Jun said.

“Desperate times,” Ohno said, moving to walk past him. “Who would you tell anyway?”

Jun didn’t bother to reply. They both knew the answer.

The corridor was small and dank. Ohno had no problems with bumping his head against the ceiling given his height, but Jun had to crouch a little as he trudged behind Ohno.

“Your footsteps are loud,” Ohno said.

“It’s the boots. They’re too big for my feet,” Jun said, but he could feel the tips of his ears burning. He never had to make his presence unnoticeable before. He’d been the center of attention once. Now he had to make the conscious effort of being light on his feet, suddenly having to learn how to become like a palace servant, slipping away without anyone noticing.

Ohno made no further comment. He led Jun on, and when they reached another door, Ohno faced him.

“There are two wings in the palace. I’ve searched the east wing and didn’t find him there, but I want you to go and check all the same. It’s the wing with the least number of guards; they’re doing drills in the west wing at this hour since there’s an ongoing council meeting and only the Empress’ personal security are allowed to linger there.”

“Did you check the council chambers, captain?” Jun asked.

Ohno looked annoyed for the first time. “Yes. Sho-kun wasn’t summoned, which is why I’m concerned. His siblings are there on behalf of his mother, but not him.”

“Then he is missing,” Jun said.

Ohno appeared not to hear him. He tilted his chin to Jun’s left, and Jun realized that what he thought was a wall wasn’t actually one.

“There are secret passageways throughout the palace. The servants do not know of them, as well as most of the guards. The royal family and their confidantes, however, know of them.”

The existence of such things weren’t strange to Jun. Their own palace had its own set of secret passageways, labyrinthine areas that Jun knew like the back of his own hand. As a boy, he’d seen to it that he had them memorized.

“There are no turns, except when you reach an entrance to a specific room. If you follow the corridor once I open the door, you’ll find the library, the public baths, and the royal chambers. Sho-kun’s is the first one you’ll come across with.”

Jun nodded. “There are cameras, of course?”

“Of course,” Ohno said. “But they’re not directed towards the secret doors, so as long as you keep to the walls and remain silent, you will not be discovered.”

“I understand,” Jun said.

Ohno moved to press some buttons on the console, and a door slid open.

“This is treason, you realize?” Jun asked, just before he crossed the threshold. “Letting your enemy into the paths that are structured to save your future emperor’s life in times of danger.”

“It’s been treason since I talked to Nino,” Ohno said. “I know what I face.”

“Then let’s find the Emperor Apparent so we can get out of here,” Jun said, spinning on his heel.

--

The royal library of Hamal didn’t house a collection as massive as the one Jun was accustomed to, but the area was still spacious enough that Jun had to rely on his hearing to know if Sho was there. Like any other library, it was quiet, and only muted conversations carried through the air.

From experience, Jun knew that if a member of a royal family (especially the Crown Prince) had stepped through the library’s doors, the chief librarian and his attendants would spring to attention and cause a ruckus, momentarily disrupting the library’s peace. If Sho was here, Jun thought he would have known it. There would be whispers—about what the emperor-to-be was reading, how he looked as he skimmed through each old tome, each volume—and there would be bystanders.

The presence of a royal always attracted a crowd.

Jun spent five minutes listening in before deciding to move to the next chamber. On his way there, he could feel the stifling heat coming from the steam baths, the sonics. Saiph never had bathhouses; they never saw the need to turn the act of cleansing themselves into a social gathering.

However, being Crown Prince, Jun had shared baths with people in the past—the people who’d shared his bed the night before. Ohno had called theirs public baths. Jun assumed it was where the families of power had gathered when the sight of long tables and pads had worn them out.

The heat generated by the sonic showers and the steam tubs seeped through the walls and the very ground Jun walked on and left him sweating in his clothes. The thick leather hoarded more and more heat as Jun walked, and when he finally reached the door, he had to take a moment to wipe a trickle of sweat on his forehead before pushing it open.

Jun had never seen a bathhouse before, and the sight of marble tubs arising from the ground surprised him. There were attendants bringing refreshments towards one tub in the corner, and Jun had to slip through the door to slide it shut.

Finding Sho here would be difficult, but he had to try. Ohno had asked him to.

The baths were sparsely populated, and there were pillars situated all over the room. It was designed after a very ancient civilization from the Old World, something Jun had only glimpsed in old books. But Jun had no time to gawk and admire. He instead used the pillars to his advantage; they were big enough to hide his body if he leaned against them, and he did so while peering through each tub for any occupant that might look familiar to him.

The search took him longer than his stay in the library did, but it yielded the same results. There was no sight of the infuriating emperor-to-be.

He slipped back inside the secret door and caught his breath, wondering if it was truly worth leaving the ship for this. Nino should be back in the ship by now, and Jun would rather help him load the fuel cells than play hide and seek with a future emperor.

He walked onward anyway; there was no use pondering what could have been. He was here now. After the royal chambers, he’d have to go back and hope Ohno’s search wasn’t as hopeless as his was turning out to be.

The trek to Sho’s chambers was longer than Jun had estimated, long enough for the heat from the baths to dissipate from the walls. It was reasonable, Jun thought, for a pampered emperor-to-be to not want his private quarters to be so close to where most of the palace’s heaters were. Nights in Hamal were cold, but the winter didn’t last for as long as a year. Their summers might not be as intense as Saiph’s, but the heat had to be grueling for a person unaccustomed to it.

Jun listened in when he reached the door, and he heard something that made him push it open. It was a crash—porcelain, glass, he didn’t know—followed by a thud and a groan.

His eyes searched the moment he stepped in, and he found four men circling Sho, clad in cloaks similar to the tattered one wrapped around his body. Sho was dressed down in a plain tunic and trousers. He didn’t appear to be panicking despite the armed men he was facing, but he’d been the source of the sound. A shattered plate and a few pieces of broken glass separated him from the men, but they were closing in and surrounding him.

Sho’s eyes widened at the sight of him, and Jun reached for the phasers he’d tucked in his holsters, set them to stun, and took aim.

“Duck!” he screamed at Sho, and the men turned to him. Jun managed to fire once before they opened fire on him, and he had to roll to his side at the sight of a red flare to avoid getting hit.

Their phasers were set to kill.

These men were assassins.

Jun wasn’t an experienced killer, but he’d laid down a couple of his own men during the training he’d imposed on himself. He knew how to move to avoid a phaser fire, how to disarm a man once he got close enough.

But it was him against two men, the other two—he discovered when he looked ahead—were trying to kill Sho in the adjacent room.

Ohno’s words rung in Jun’s head.

Don’t die, he thought, and resolved to do the same.

One man aimed for his torso, and Jun evaded the shot by crouching. He fired as soon as he could, and he was able to hit one assailant square in the face, knocking him out.

That angered his companion, now firing at will in Jun’s direction. Jun inched closer to the man as he tried to evade, and when he got close enough, he swung his leg to knock the man off balance.

The man fell with a groan, and Jun stomped on his wrist to make him let go of his weapon. He kicked the phaser away and stunned the man to unconsciousness before running to the adjacent room, towards the main chambers.

He found one of the assassins lying unconscious against the wall, and looking ahead revealed Sho kneeling on top of the other, a piece of a glass shard in his hands. Sho put all of his weight on the final assailant, not moving off him even as he struggled.

Jun watched Sho press the glass shard against the man’s neck, and he was pulling the trigger before he knew it, stunning the last assassin before Sho could pierce the man’s neck with his makeshift weapon.

Sho turned to him with wild eyes, and he moved faster than Jun had expected. He was on Jun in moments, the glass shard resting on Jun’s throat as his back hit the wall.

“Who sent you?!” Sho snarled.

“I didn’t come to kill you,” Jun said, grabbing Sho by the wrist and pushing him back.

“You’re dressed like them!” Sho said, the fire in his eyes yet to disappear. Jun didn’t let go of him until he groaned in pain and dropped the shard, and it shattered close to their feet when it hit the floor.

“This is a disguise!” Jun hissed, and he shoved Sho off him.

Sho picked up one of the assassins’ discarded phaser and pointed it threateningly at Jun. “Why didn’t you let me kill them if you’re not one of them?!”

“Because you don’t have to be like them,” Jun said, breaths coming in gasps. The rush of adrenaline was dissipating. He saw something shift in the way Sho was looking at him. “You don’t. This way, you can question them.”

Sho stared at him with eyes narrowed, then he lowered his weapon a little. “Ohno.”

“He’s looking for you,” Jun said. “He was worried about you.”

“What else did he tell you?” Sho asked, his voice strained.

“That he suspects someone’s trying to kill you,” Jun said. He stuffed his phasers back in their holsters and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not here to do that.”

“What are you here for, then?”

“To find you.”

A furrow formed between Sho’s eyebrows, followed by the slide of muscle in his jaw. “Why?”

“Because Ohno asked me to.” Jun looked around at every corner of the room, even at the ceiling. He found no cameras, but he didn’t feel secure.

“Do you think they’d put cameras in my bedroom?” Sho asked.

“I mustn’t be seen,” Jun said. “I promised Ohno I wouldn’t be.”

“What else did you promise my captain?” Sho asked, and when Jun turned back to him, the phaser had been lowered. Sho still eyed him warily, but the aggression from earlier had disappeared, replaced by guarded curiosity.

Jun reached for his communicator and reported Sho’s location to Ohno. “That I’d help him bring you back to the outskirts.”

Sho watched him, and Jun turned to look at the four assailants. “Do you have any binds?”

“No,” Sho said. He stepped forward, took aim, and fired.

Jun watched him in shock. Sho had just killed a man. A man that had been hired to kill him. Sho moved to the next one and did the same, and to the next. He reached the last man before Jun was able to grasp his wrist and step right into the line of fire.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “Have you gone mad? You just murdered the very people who could have told you who was behind all this.”

Sho met his eyes before casting a pointed look at Jun’s grip on him. Jun didn’t budge.

“Stop,” Jun said. “Stop.”

“They tried to kill me,” Sho said, as if Jun didn’t know.

“Yes, but you’re not a killer. Stop.”

“You would know what a killer is. Your bloodline is full of it.”

Among Sho’s insults so far, that was the weakest one yet, betraying his state at present. Now that Jun took a good look at him, he could see the fatigue, the fear that Sho was trying desperately to hide. There’d just been an attempt on his life, and the person he treated as his sworn enemy bore witness to all of it. Jun had seen a moment of vulnerability.

Jun couldn’t imagine what was Sho feeling at this moment. There might be no words to describe it.

“You’re not like me,” Jun said instead. “You’re not like my people.”

He felt Sho’s grip on the phaser slacken, and Jun pried it from Sho’s hands. He examined it and found no stun feature—it was permanently set to kill. A weapon of a hired mercenary.

Jun pulled out his own and fired one stun shot on the remaining man, just to be sure.

Outside, they heard footsteps followed by voices of men asking to be granted entry, and Jun froze just as his gaze met Sho’s.

“Go,” Sho said, gesturing to the door Jun had come through.

Jun hesitated.

“It’s my royal guard,” Sho said. “They won’t harm me.”

“They took their time,” Jun said. “Ohno—”

“Tell him I will follow,” Sho said. “Go. They can’t see you here. You must leave now.”

“What will you tell them?” Jun asked, wary. “I’m not sure the other cameras didn’t catch me.”

Sho almost smiled. The twitch of his lips gave it away. “I’m an accomplished orator, Matsumoto. I know what to say. Go.”

Jun nodded and he ran, slipping through the door as fast as he could.

The last thing he saw before he slid the door shut was Sho standing in the center of his chambers and looking down on his hands, the bodies of four men surrounding his form.

--

“Return to the ship and wait for us there,” was Ohno’s order after Jun had finished relaying everything to him.

Jun did, but he decided to wait for nightfall in order to slip past people more easily. He lingered for an hour or two in the corridor that led to the bridge, and once the built-in chronometer of the communicator indicated that the moon was high up, he made his way back to the cliffs.

Ninomiya was sitting at the top of the platform of the opened hatch when Jun reached the ship, his elbows resting on his thighs. His elaborate coat was gone. He was smirking the moment Jun had gotten past the cloak, revealing the ship.

“Been busy?” Ninomiya asked.

“You didn’t run off with the ship,” Jun said.

“I can’t fly her myself,” Ninomiya said.

“Liar. You would have found a way, somehow.”

Ninomiya smiled wider. “Come now, aren’t we comrades? Especially after you ran off according to the captain’s orders.”

Jun looked past Ninomiya but couldn’t see a thing. Ninomiya had powered down the entire ship. “You got the fuel cells?”

“I got the fuel cells,” Ninomiya said, a touch of pride in his voice. “You got the princeling?”

“Ohno did.” Jun climbed up the ship, boots thudding against the flooring. “I think.”

“I heard everything, you know,” Ninomiya said. Jun glanced at him, and all he saw was Ninomiya’s back. The man didn’t move from his position. “Your feed was still connected to the ship.”

“I see,” was all Jun said.

“You saved his life.” There was curiosity now. “Why?”

“Would you let a man die if you could do something about it?”

Ninomiya didn’t reply and instead kept watching the beach, the waves hitting the shore. Jun left him after a moment and began undressing, discarding his cloak and loosening the straps of his leather jacket. It stuck to him because he’d sweat through it, and the discomfort was becoming unbearable. He balled up the cloak and wiped some of his sweat with it—there was nothing for him to use. Gone were the days he merely had to call for an attendant.

He made his way to the engine room and did a quick sweep; they had to be ready to leave as soon as Ohno arrived. He examined the fuel cells, finding them assembled properly, and went to where he’d last seen Ninomiya.

“Told you I got the fuel cells,” Ninomiya said without turning to face him.

Jun moved to seat on the space next to him. “You also did something about the transistor.”

“It was faulty. Made the ship creak,” was all Ninomiya said.

“Thank you for your hard work,” Jun said.

Ninomiya snorted, then he chuckled, his shoulders shaking.

“What?” Jun asked.

“That’s the first time someone thanked me in a long time,” Ninomiya said. He turned to Jun, and Jun waited. “Did he thank you? For what you did?”

“No,” Jun said. “He thought I was going to kill him too. I couldn’t blame him for thinking that. I was dressed like them.”

“Were they from your planet?”

Jun shook his head. “From the outer rim, it appeared. Hired mercenaries. But with my presence there, for a moment it looked as if I was leading those men to an assassination.”

Ninomiya let out a breath. “I could use a cigarette right now, with all these political feuds and plots I never thought I’d be a part of.”

Jun echoed his sentiment. The weariness was sinking in now; his feet ached from all the running, his shoulders felt tense with all the crouching and ducking. And he still had to bring Ohno and Sho back to the camp.

“You didn’t sign up for this,” Ninomiya said. It made Jun look at him, at his youthful, deceiving face. “Of all the men I met in that wretched camp, you’re the only one who didn’t sign up for this.”

“You didn’t either,” Jun pointed out.

“No, in a way, I did.” Ninomiya stretched his legs, bracing himself with his wrists flat on the flooring behind him. He looked relaxed. “When I followed that tip despite my suspicions, I signed myself up for something. I didn’t imagine it’d turn out to be this, but my actions led me here. Yours didn’t.”

“You seem certain,” Jun told him. “I never told you a thing about me.”

“That’s the thing about you,” Ninomiya said, smiling. “You’re a man of action. I never knew what made you do the things you did, and just when I thought nothing could surprise me anymore, I learn about you saving your enemy’s life. He imprisoned you, if you remember.”

“He imprisoned you too.”

“But I’m used to that.” Ninomiya’s eyes narrowed.

“Used to people not being kind to you?” Jun asked, and Ninomiya looked away for a second. It was more than enough. “You were from the outer rim, you said.”

“That’s what I said, yes.”

“Were you—” Jun caught himself and shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place.”

“If you want to know something, you have to ask the question,” Ninomiya said.

“You were born somewhere else,” Jun said instead. “Somewhere not part of the outer rim.”

“Alnitak,” Ninomiya said.

That was a planet of farmers and fishermen. Of people living an honest life, their produce their primary trade. They were peaceful people under the protection of Jun’s home planet. His father’s crest had been on their currency.

Jun was overcome with homesickness, rushing inside him like floodgates opened. Had he been king, Ninomiya would have been part of his people.

When he recovered, he felt dread. If Ninomiya had hailed from a planet under their territory, he would have to know who their king was. And the future king.

“Alnitak,” Jun repeated, keeping his voice even.

“The planet of bountiful harvests,” Ninomiya said. He had a faraway look in his eyes. “Of honesty and prosperity through hard work and fair trade. The irony isn’t lost to you, I’d say.”

“You chose this life,” Jun concluded.

Ninomiya quirked an eyebrow. “What, the life of a criminal? I didn’t.” He looked up at the dark sky above them, the celestial bodies concealed by clouds. “I chose the stars. But one thing led to another, and here I am.”

“Why did you leave?” Jun couldn’t imagine voluntarily leaving Saiph. He’d had the luxury trips he’d indulged in, but he’d always find his way back home.

“I couldn’t do it,” Ninomiya said. “The life of a farmer or a fisherman. My parents were farmers. They had this mill along with a granary, and workers, lots of them. All of whom were treated fairly, provided with the proper wage. It was a good life.”

“But not the one you wanted?”

“It wasn’t for me,” Ninomiya said. “They say ambition is what kills the man. I suppose that is true. I wanted more. That’s why I left. I wanted to be part of the stories I grew up with. Be the stories when I get back.”

“How old were you?”

Ninomiya smiled, and without the light, he looked young, like a man on the cusp of adulthood. “When I left, the Saiphan king just named his daughter as his successor. I was hardly of age. When you’re that young, you call that bravery. When you’re older and looking back, you call that impulsiveness. Either way, I didn’t manage to get back home.”

Jun would estimate to be Ninomiya around thirteen, fourteen at that time, close to his age. Rina had been Crown Princess when he was turning thirteen. He couldn’t imagine having the guts to leave his planet at that age.

But Ninomiya wasn’t a prince. He was born to be a farmer.

“Next thing I knew, I was in the outer rim, trying to fend for myself. It’s funny what men intending you harm can teach you if you survive the horror,” Ninomiya said. “You asked if I would leave a man to die if something could be done about it. At one time, I wouldn’t have.”

Jun didn’t say anything; he knew he wouldn’t find the right words. He would never be able to imagine what kind of life Ninomiya had lived before this. The outer rim was a notorious place for outlaws and black market trading. To have survived that long in such a place, Ninomiya must have done what was necessary.

“We can’t all be noble like you,” Ninomiya said. “Men are wretched beings. Each to their own.”

They remained silent after that. The intermittent crashes of the waves against the shore were all Jun could hear, at least until he found himself asking, “Do you miss it?”

Ninomiya faced him in question.

“Home,” Jun said. He almost choked at the word.

“Alnitak wasn’t my home. If it were, I wouldn’t have left it.” Ninomiya slid down the flooring with a grunt, resting his head on his curved arm. “I used to do this back in the fields. Alnitak had cloudless skies, an unobstructed view of the stars. I would run to the wheat fields and find a spot, lie down and look up. I always felt a calling every time. That somewhere out there, I’d find my place.”

“And did you?”

“I’m still searching,” Ninomiya said. “But I miss my parents. Last thing I heard, my sister got married and had a kid. I never met my niece. Or nephew; I don’t know how many there are. It’s been so long. But I would have wanted them to know who I was, what I saw when I left the planet. I think it’ll make an interesting bedtime story.” He shrugged. “But the Saiphan king had implemented many rules that made it difficult to go back. I stopped trying after a while. Besides, if anybody knew that I have family in Alnitak, they might use them to flush me out. I’m still a criminal.”

If Jun were still future king, he could arrange for a ship to take Ninomiya back to Alnitak with a word. Had he been prince still, he’d have ensured that Ninomiya would have had a visit, just to see how his family were.

“I swear to you,” Jun found himself saying anyway, “that I’ll help you get to Alnitak one day.”

Ninomiya turned to him, expression serious for a moment.

“I’ll find a way,” Jun said, determined.

To his surprise, Ninomiya smiled. Not his usual crafty or teasing smiles, but a soft one. “You talk like a king, but you’re trapped here as much as I am.”

Jun opened his mouth to say something, but a flash of movement caught his eye. He stood abruptly, and Ninomiya sat up. Ahead, they could see two men approaching. They were both hooded, but one man wore a cloak of finer material than the other.

“Good evening, captain,” Ninomiya greeted cheerily as soon as Ohno and Sho went past the scope of the cloaking device. “Princeling.”

“Ninomiya,” Sho said in reply, but his eyes were on Jun. “I see you didn’t leave without us.”

“I still have your captain’s purse,” Ninomiya said, and he tossed the pack in Ohno’s direction, who caught it with one hand.

Ohno kept the purse inside his cloak without bothering to check the remaining credit inside them. Jun caught Ninomiya smiling.

Sho climbed up the opened hatch, hands unfastening his cloak. “We must depart now.”

Jun waited until Ohno climbed aboard before he sealed the hatch. Ninomiya already went ahead, perhaps navigating their route back, but before Jun could follow, Ohno stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

Jun looked at him. Past the goggles that he still wore, he saw something he never thought he’d see on the eyes of a Hamali.

“Thank you,” Ohno said. “For what you did.”

“Did he kill the other?” Jun asked.

Ohno shook his head. “We questioned him, but he didn’t budge. In the end, he killed himself with poison.”

Jun merely nodded. “He killed the other men.”

“He told me you stilled his hand,” Ohno said. “Why did you do that?”

“He’s not a killer,” Jun said. “Until today.”

“What difference does one man make? They were going to kill him.”

“It’s still one man,” Jun said. “One life. It makes a difference, despite that.”

“Matsumoto, I need you on the bridge,” Ninomiya said through the comms. “Must I do everything by myself?”

Ohno regarded him before letting him go, tilting his head towards the cockpit.

Jun moved to leave, but he could feel Ohno’s eyes on him as he walked away.

--

The ship had two private quarters in it, and Sho already laid claim to one as soon as the ship was flying steadily back to the outskirts. It would take them longer to reach the camp since Ninomiya had taken the precautionary measure of using an alternative route, but Sho hadn’t complained. All he’d done was nod.

Jun placed the ship on autopilot before finally discarding the jacket and gloves, as well as the knee pads that he wore. He piled them as neatly as he could in the cargo hold before pulling the phasers from their holsters and putting them back where he’d found them. They still had a few charges in them.

“You shouldn’t leave them,” a voice said from the doorway.

Jun proceeded to take off his gloves, not bothering to look behind him. “You should rest. We won’t be there in six hours.”

“I didn’t find out anything,” Sho told him. “The man whose life you asked me to spare ended his own with a poisoned pellet that was trapped under his tongue. I didn’t kill him, but he was dying anyway.”

Jun was clad in a thin shirt that stuck to his skin, and he wiped his face using the edge of it before unbuckling his boots. It took him a while; the buckles were old and beginning to rust, and he had to be careful, but soon his feet were free.

He felt self-conscious disrobing in front of Sho.

Jun turned and found Sho leaning against the doorway, watching him. Not with contempt as he always had. There was something else in his eyes now.

Jun moved to grab the old clothes that he’d worn, the ones from Ohno’s garrison. He slipped the boots into his feet and laced them, hands making quick work. His every moment was being observed, and Jun wondered if it was to satisfy a curiosity or to find a weakness. With everything that had happened, he wasn’t sure he could defend himself.

“I don’t have the strength to engage in a verbal battle with you,” Jun admitted. “Come back tomorrow.”

“I didn’t come here for that,” Sho said.

Jun directed a questioning look at Sho.

“I don’t like being indebted to anyone,” Sho said after a moment. “To you, most of all.”

Jun almost smiled in mockery. “You have to say it, you know. With you, I don’t know what to think.”

“Would you like a reward?” Sho asked. “Name your price.”

Their eyes met, and Jun said, “You know what I want.”

“Your freedom? A stocked ship and my leave to return to your planet?” Sho’s eyes narrowed at him, and Jun knew what his answer would be. “No. Ask for another.”

“There is nothing else you can give me,” Jun said.

“There is something,” Sho said, and his eyes had turned shrewd. Jun was now wary of him, his system assuming fight or flight. “You might want to know what’s happening in your planet at the moment.”

Jun held his breath and composed himself. He mustn’t look too eager, too starved for information. It had been four months of silence.

“The usurper, Princess Rina, is now crowned Queen of Saiph after her father’s death and her half-brother’s mysterious disappearance,” Sho said. “It’s said that there are Saiphan ships searching the galaxy for him, that his sister wants him found and brought back to the family, sparing no expense.”

Jun felt bile rising to his throat. How far would the lies go? He still lived, and Rina knew perfectly well where he was.

“You called her a usurper,” Jun said, finding his voice. “You’ve been calling her that ever since. Why?”

“Isn’t it too convenient for her story?” Sho asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “That the old king died because of soldiers turning rogue, the Crown Prince disappears, and she has to assume the throne in his place? All after she abdicated years ago, of course.”

“You think she killed them.”

“I’ll tell you what every Hamali thinks what happened. The Saiphan king was murdered by his daughter, and his daughter killed the heir he named after she’d realized what an asset she lost when she’d given up the throne. She had every witness killed from the king’s household and royal guard down to the prince’s. And now she’s playing every Saiphan for a fool, putting up a convincing act so that the whole planet mourns the loss of their king and prince, but also rejoices at the return of their princess.”

It was too much. If what Sho told him was true, then all members of his household had been slaughtered. His butler, his personal servants, his attendants, his entertainers. The captain he’d personally appointed to safeguard his life, the one who had taught him everything he knew about combat. His royal guard whom he’d trained with.

Jun averted his gaze to his feet in order to steel himself.

He mustn’t falter now. Not here, not in front of this man.

“What does this information have to do with you?” Jun asked.

“Oh you are a Saiphan indeed,” Sho said. “If you were still on your planet, your queen would have played you true. What does this have to do with me? I have to be mad to not think that she won’t come for my planet next.”

“She will not invade you,” Jun said. There would be no point, Jun thought. Rina had everything already; Jun no longer stood in her way.

Unless she truly wanted to erase all evidence.

Sho was looking at him like he understood perfectly what Jun was thinking. “You’re starting to doubt that.”

Jun couldn’t deny it. He wanted to know when it would be enough, when would Rina stop, but he knew that she wouldn’t as long as he lived. She wasn’t convinced that sending him here would kill him—she knew him too well. She knew Jun would survive, would make the most of his situation and try to find a way back.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Sho said. “My mother has already denied the Saiphan queen’s request for an audience to give her time to mourn.”

“You don’t agree with your mother’s decision,” Jun said. He could see it on Sho’s face.

“No. Because all she was able to achieve with that courtesy was giving our enemy more time to strategize their attack better. Your planet will come to invade mine, thanks to my mother indirectly lending a hand to your queen.”

“She’s not my queen,” Jun said immediately.

“Oh yes, I forgot. You made an enemy of her, which is why you’re here.” Sho moved off the doorway and stepped inside the cargo hold, standing a few paces away from Jun. “Tell me, were you a loyalist of the Crown Prince? What was he like? We never met.”

“He was a fool,” Jun said quietly. “He loved dearly and trusted blindly.”

“Was he kind?”

“I—he was fair,” Jun said. “He wanted to be a king worthy of his people.”

“Would the people have mourned for him?” Sho asked. “Properly?”

Jun considered it. His people had loved him. Their family was dear to the Saiphans; his father had been a firm but forgiving ruler. The planet would have mourned for their king.

“Yes,” Jun said. “The late prince would have been the kind of king his father has been.”

“No,” Sho said.

Jun turned to him, frowning. “No?”

“The Princess Rina is the kind of ruler her father has been,” Sho said. “She’s seeking to expand her territory soon, and with Hamal as their planet’s long-standing enemy, she will find a way to silence us eventually. That was what the old king did, and all the kings and queens before him.”

“The King of Saiph didn’t have your people murdered,” Jun said, feeling anger rise from his chest.

“And yet his soldiers raided our mines near the Altair Belt.”

No, his father told him it was to rescue refugees from the hands of their Hamali captors. Jun didn’t know of this. “That wasn’t a raid. That was a rescue.”

“A rescue?” Sho seemed amused now. “Is that what your king told his people? That he was liberating slaves when in reality, Hamal has forbidden slavery and any citizen your planet’s soldiers have found in the mines were honest workers? You stole those mines from us, forced our people to work for you.”

“No, that’s not what happened,” Jun said, unable to believe it. His father wouldn’t.

“And how would you know? You didn’t see it happen,” Sho said. “I was there. I was sent by my mother to speak with the foreman, and what I arrived at was your planet’s herald declaring that one of our most profitable mines are now under the protection of the royal crown of Saiph.”

“That’s not true!” Jun denied, shaking his head.

“Didn’t you ever wonder what brought about the sudden improvements in your infrastructures? You Saiphan and your love for modern technology. It made you greedy. You took what was ours, and you’ll keep taking what’s ours. We’ve been oppressed by your kind for so long.”

“The only lands we took from you,” Jun said carefully, evenly, “were the ones that the Queen Chinatsu claimed as her own when she chose to live in Saiph.”

“The only lands you know that you took,” Sho corrected. “You’ve taken so much from us. I understand now why you’re here. If you followed the late prince, you’ve been as blind as him.”

“He wouldn’t have done that,” Jun muttered, shaking his head repeatedly. “Not the king.” His father wouldn’t. He wouldn’t, and yet.

Yet, Sho had a point. A few years ago there had been planet-wide renovations, improvements done on old infrastructures. Jun had been fashioned a new ship for his personal use at that time, and because he’d lived in luxury, he hadn’t asked. He’d been grateful for the gift.

His tutor had been telling the truth. They all descended from the men of the Old World.

“Did we take your people as slaves?” Jun asked when he could, which was after the silence that had stretched between him and Sho. He had to know. If his father had—

“You left them unemployed with no means of going back home,” Sho said. “You didn’t take them as slaves but cut off their means of living, gave them no purpose. Once again, your people caused mine great pain and suffering.”

“I’m sorry,” Jun heard himself say.

He seemed to have surprised Sho, who now sported a frown. “What?”

“I’m sorry. For all of it.”

“Why would you apologize to me?”

Because my father did that to your people and I let him, Jun thought. “Because I’m a Saiphan.”

“You’re no one,” Sho said, and now he sounded angry. “You’re just an unfortunate, sad, pathetic man who made the wrong enemy after overestimating himself. And now the one who sent you here to die is going to ensure your death with a planned invasion, and you can do nothing but watch it happen.”

“No,” Jun said.

Sho seemed appalled, his eyes nearly turning to slits. “No?”

“I won’t let that happen,” Jun swore. Once was enough. He’d been broken, beaten down, and thrown out. But they would have to kill him before they could do it all over again.

A bark of harsh laughter escapes from Sho. “And how will you do that? You’re just one man, surrounded by people who hate your kind. Do you think a future emperor will take the word of a named traitor and defector? There has to be a limit to your imagination.”

“I won’t let that happen and neither will you,” Jun said confidently, stepping forward. Sho stood his ground, but his shoulders tensed as he braced himself for Jun’s approach. “You’re trying to prevent two wars from happening while also trying to watch your back. You failed at the third a few hours ago, perhaps because you’re so focused on the other two.”

He locked eyes with Sho, who was watching his every movement now.

“If you want to prevent civil war, you have my word that I will help you,” Jun said sincerely. “In the event that my planet comes to invade yours, I will help you still. And should there be another attempt on your life—”

“What are you getting out of this?” Sho asked suspiciously, speaking over him. “I just destroyed the reputation and the lasting memory of your late king in you.”

“Yes,” Jun acknowledged. “You’ve done that. You disillusioned me towards my own people and you’ve succeeded. I still meant every word that I said.”

“Why? You’re the member of my army that I never treated fairly. Why would you do all that you said you would?”

“Because I saw you almost die today, and it showed me that you’re not the man I thought you were,” Jun answered. “You’ve never killed before, have you? Not until today. Not until you realized you had to.”

Sho met his eyes, but Jun noticed that he was also holding himself very still. “Do you think I can’t do it when the time comes?”

“You’re not a killer,” Jun told him. “You killed those men not because they were going to do the same to you, but because you knew you had to.” Sho set his jaw, and Jun continued, “You had to.”

Sho let his eyes slide shut, and Jun said, “You know who’s trying to have you killed.”

When Sho opened his eyes, Jun waited for any rebuff or spiteful comment, but received none.

“Does Ohno know?” he asked next.

“If he does, the person behind it would be dead by now on my word,” Sho said.

“Do you enjoy courting danger?” Jun asked. “Why go back to Sheratan where your life is always at stake? You almost got murdered!”

“Are you pretending to care for my wellbeing?” Sho asked calmly.

Jun was overcome with the urge to wring Sho’s neck. Must Sho always be so difficult every time? “Does the Empress know that someone is plotting to kill her heir?”

“She does now,” Sho said. “They’ve been trying to kill me for a while; I have to say that this afternoon and the tea they served at one dinner a few nights ago were the only attempts that almost worked.”

“And the motive?”

“The motive?” Sho repeated, raising both eyebrows at him. “Have you not any guesses? You’ve been proving to be an adept conversant and a quick thinker, Saiphan. Don’t shatter my expectations now.”

When it clicked, Jun could feel his stomach turn. “They want you to lose.”

“Such a benign theory,” Sho commented. “No, they don’t want me to lose. They want all of Hamal to lose. If civil war breaks out, my planet will be crippled by it. Weakened. And that’s when your planet will invade. If I die, there’ll be no one who will try to prevent an all-out war from happening. You asked why I kept coming back to Sheratan? I have to plant seeds before I can reap. My mother is headstrong; she will not back down from those who challenge our family’s claim to the throne. But at the expense of what, the loss of two-thirds of the Hamali army?” Sho looked irate now. “The council are pressuring her to put an end to it soon, but I won’t let her fight a war that only seeks to eliminate more than half of our forces.”

“It’s a councilman who’s trying to kill you,” Jun concluded.

Sho made no affirmation, but his silence spoke volumes.

“And if she chooses to fight still?” Jun asked. If Sho’s mother was as stubborn as her son, Jun could only predict one outcome.

“She will have to fight me first,” Sho said, determined. He faced Jun and gave him a long, cool look. “You promised me your aid without even knowing the extent of what you were signing up for.”

“I gave you my word,” Jun told him. “Do you think I will turn back on it?”

Sho tilted his head in consideration. “No, I think you won’t. What I can’t understand is why not. You spent your whole life being told that the Hamali are your enemy. And now you’re helping one in a stand against your own planet? Is it mercy? Or are you doing this out of malice? Do you think you can win your freedom in this manner?”

“I’m not helping you because I pity you or because I want a reward from you,” Jun said firmly. “I’m helping you because I know what it’s like.”

“What’s what like?” Sho asked, eyes on his.

“To fight alone,” Jun said.

A breath escaped from Sho, and for a moment, Jun had a glimpse of how he truly felt. The fatigue had been on his face for a second before he bottled it all up, hid everything with a mask of indifference.

But Jun now knew it was all a facade.

“I always fought alone,” Sho said. “I’m all that I have. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”

Jun remembered the day of his transfer to Ohno’s garrison.

He’s only gotten better at it as he got older, Ohno had said.

“You don’t have to do everything on your own,” Jun told him. “You have Ohno. Aiba. All the men we’re returning to. Even Ninomiya’s on your side now, despite his tendencies.”

“I have criminals on my side, how comforting,” Sho said. “Is that what you’re going to reassure me with? Don’t waste your breath. I don’t need allies, I just need men. I can do this. I know I can. I’ve done so much before, on my own.”

“Is that why you say you don’t need anyone?” Jun asked. “Because you’re so used to not having someone on your side, someone who knows everything that’s going on?”

“You say I have Ohno and Aiba? Of course I have them; they’re my soldiers. They’re going to do what they’re told.” Sho glared at him, nostrils flaring. “Do you enjoy deluding me to a false sense of security on the day I almost got assassinated? Your timing is commendable. Pray tell, what other lies will you tell your enemy today, Matsumoto Jun?”

“You don’t have to do this alone!” Jun said, feeling anger spike in him. He never met a person as stubborn and as infuriating as Sho. Why wouldn’t he listen? “Why won’t you realize this? You have men who are loyal to your cause! Ohno risked his life, his reputation to save you! I’m willing to help you, but you won’t let me, and that’s because you won’t let anyone!”

“Because I’m on my own!” Sho told him. “I’ve always been on my own! I have no one!”

“You have me!” Jun cried.

It marked the time Jun first witnessed shock etched on Sho’s face. He hadn’t thought he’d be capable of putting that there.

“And everyone else,” Jun added, his voice lowering in pitch. He’d been screaming moments ago, he realized. “If only you allowed it.”

Silence fell between them. Jun took in Sho’s appearance, at how the way he looked at Jun had changed. What was he seeing? His enemy? Jun had become so much in such a short span of time, given the turn of events.

When Sho spoke, Jun couldn’t detect the emotion in his voice. “You’re not turning out the way I expected.”

Jun nearly laughed. Instead he settled for a snort. “Believe me, that sentiment is something I share.” When Sho looked at him questioningly, he added, “You could’ve turned me in today. Put the blame on me. I’m a Saiphan. No one would’ve questioned it.”

“Did you think I would repay what you’ve done by putting you in prison?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you imprisoned me.”

Sho nearly cracked a smile, but he appeared to have caught himself on time. “And now here I am, listening to my former prisoner. How are your hands?”

“My what?”

“Your hands. You blistered them the last time I saw you, before the events of this afternoon. You refused to show them to me at that time.” Sho glanced at his sides, where both of his hands were.

Jun shrugged. “They’re healed now. Have been for long.” I saved you with the same hands your men have caused to blister, he didn’t say. And I gained other scars since then.

They heard footsteps approaching, and Jun looked past Sho to see Ohno, who halted in his tracks when he saw that Sho wasn’t alone. Sho didn’t turn.

“Your Highness,” Ohno said after a pause, announcing his presence. Sho only tilted his head in acknowledgement. “There’s food in the mess hall. It’s not much, but please eat.” To Jun, Ohno said, “You too.”

“Thank you Satoshi-kun,” Sho said. Ohno nodded and moved to leave, but Sho stopped him by saying, “When we get back to the camp, I want Matsumoto transferred.”

Ohno was better than Jun at hiding his surprise. “Transferred, Highness?”

“Yes,” Sho said, giving Jun his back and making his way out of the cargo hold, crossing half of the room in confident strides. “I want him part of my personal guard. See it done.”

Ohno gave a slight bow. “As you wish.”

Sho walked past Ohno, and Ohno shared a brief look with Jun before leaving.

Alone, Jun finally noticed that he wasn’t able to change into the clothes he’d worn at the camp save for the boots. The leather pants and its numerous straps didn’t feel so alien now, and Jun abandoned the idea of changing entirely, refolding his clothes and setting them in a corner before making his way to the mess hall.



FOLLOW THE LINK to Part 2

 

Comments

[akhikaru]

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm loving the summary. And the notes. And the warnings (whoa, just look at that list!!!)
Really, really excited to read this! :D
Will come back with a proper comment later~~~
Thank you in advance!!!

I'M BACK!
140k words. Wow. I have to admit I didn't see the number in the warnings before I started reading (which explains why I ended up spending as many hours as I did to read this!)
I hope you don't mind, but I'm taking my time to read everything again to leave a proper comment in each part xD

The start was... intense :O
“My dear brother, didn’t you know? You are charged with high treason and for the murder of the Duke of Stratos, as well as our beloved father, the good king.”
I really feel bad for Jun here...

She smiled. “Did you think you’d get a trial in front of the court and the council and be charged with high treason and found guilty? That you’d be sent to the high prison for a commoner’s execution?” Her lips twitched when Jun’s eyes widened. “You’re not that creative.”
And now I'm super mad at his sister!!! She's evil! (great villain!)
(By the way, this exchange between them with the "you're not that creative" line was just awesome!!! Really could feel the tension!!!)

I really, really like that you made Saiph and Hamal enemy planets. And I also liked the story of how it started :D Stealing another planet's Empress-to-be and making her his queen? Jun's great-great-grandfather sure liked trouble xD

I also like that you made the setting a war! I find wars very exciting (in fiction, of course).

Okay, now the scene where Jun is in the cargo hold...
“I can’t,” the leader said. “I made this myself.”
Somehow, when the "leader" said he had made the pad himself, I knew it was Aiba. And after that, I was certain that the swindler who had been talking to Jun was Nino (wasn't sure of either before this line haha).

“Did you think you were going to be dropped off to a pleasure planetoid?” the leader asked.
Jun’s new friend stared at the leader from head to foot then back up. “I don’t know, but you sure don’t look like a pleasure worker. You look like you haven’t gotten laid in years. Or the type that only got coin if all the other workers were occupied.”
↑
I LOVED this part xDDDDD
And I also loved that Nino managed to piss off Aiba and end up gagged practically right away!

Well, at least Jun is somewhat "safe" (I don't know if I can call it that way) because everyone seems to think he's dead. It's sad, but it's better than people knowing who he is instead of just thinking he "shares" a name with a dead prince.

The doors swooshed open after the leader provided identification to the console. What was revealed behind the doors was nothing different from a base. There were star charts predicting trajectories and star maps in pads that were scattered on top of desks. There was a disassembled plasma gun on one corner, and there were notes and observations attached to each part that was removed. Ahead, there was a hologram of a blueprint of the gates of Saiph—the only reminder of home now that Jun was so far from it.
Now, you said you tweaked my Star Wars prompt, and this part totally reminded me of Star Wars movies!!! :D :D :D

Jun never imagined that the day he’d find himself standing before Emperor Apparent Sho would also be the day he’d been imprisoned, chucked in with criminals, and gagged.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Emperor. Apparent. Sho.
(That's an interesting first meeting, btw).

“So Saiph is now ruled by a usurper and a possible murderess,” Sho said. “How fitting for a planet of thieves, schemers, and broken promises.”
Ouch!
(The resentment is strong in this one).

“Surely you’ve heard of gloves? Or do they not exist here?”
I really love that Jun doesn't give a damn about how he talks to the freaking Emperor apparent xDDDD

Jun knowing that sign language is pretty interesting. And it's good that he was curious enough to learn things like this when he was young.

“Tell you what, princeling,” Ninomiya said, and Jun watched him pay no mind to Aiba reaching for his phaser, “normally I’d lie about these things, but I’ll translate that for you to repay your generosity. He said, ‘What Saiph treats as outlaws, Hamal embraces as brothers.’”
Oh dear... xDDDDD Jun, please...

“So,” Ikuta said, when they were far enough from Aiba’s settlement, “are you the Emperor Apparent’s new lover?”
LOL!!!!!!!
This rumor.... I wonder how it spread so fast. And how did it start in the first place??? Did someone talk about the prisoner with the "pretty face" or something?

“I don’t play favorites, Matsumoto. But I’m loyal to my planet and its citizens.”
“And its Empress?” Jun supplied.
Ikuta looked thoughtful. Then the moment passed, and Ikuta waved a dismissive hand to the two guards who eyed Jun with distrust.
I didn't notice this part too much the first time I read, but upon reading it for the second time I can't ignore it anymore. HUGE hint that something's wrong here because why else wouldn't Toma reply to that???

“You see now?” Sho asked with a smile that Jun now knew to be deceptive. “If you die here, I want it to be long and excruciating, the kind that eats you from the inside. I want it to be slow, because quick hurt will barely register.” He looked at Jun’s hands that remained clenched into fists at Jun’s sides. “You don’t have my favor; you have my attention.”
Sho’s smile this time showed off his teeth. “And you will find that you were better off fooling yourself that what you have is the former.”
Ouch again xD (I love how Sho talks to him here just as much as I love Jun's replies).

The fight scene with Yoko. I was also mad. It's so unfair (but sooooo expected because that's how xenophobia works everywhere).

“We all miss Nagase,” Ikuta said. “But it’s been months, and the Emperor Apparent’s at risk every day. From discovery, from failure, from an assassination.”
First mention of Nagase. It got me very curious.
“And he’s also someone with the proper training and the only one who lasted five minutes in a settlement with the Emperor Apparent without being verbally eviscerated,”
Hahahahahaha! That last part!!!
“Better that than your idea of entrusting him with the Emperor Apparent’s life,” Aiba said. “If he goes haywire and starts shooting people, at least his target is not our future ruler.”
OOOOHHHHHH

Ohno is a captain. A CAPTAIN. That's so very appropriate, yes. Can't imagine him in any rank that could fit more xD
THE CIBERNETIC RED ARM YESSSSSSS!!!!! BIG-NO!!!!! <3

“The princeling is preparing for civil war.”
Nino keeps calling Sho "princeling" xDDDDD Good xDDDD

Jun is too nice. Really.
“Because you know how it feels to be betrayed and left to die.”
He may think he's doing things for convenience, but he's actually too nice to not help.
“Would you let a man die if you could do something about it?”
SEE!!!!
(That scene where Sho was attacked was very intense too btw! I really felt afraid for him D:)

Ohhhhh so Nino is from Jun's planet's territory????? Interesting!!!

Ohno thanked Jun <3 That was <3

“The usurper, Princess Rina, is now crowned Queen of Saiph after her father’s death and her half-brother’s mysterious disappearance,” Sho said. “It’s said that there are Saiphan ships searching the galaxy for him, that his sister wants him found and brought back to the family, sparing no expense.”
...and...
“I’ll tell you what every Hamali thinks what happened. The Saiphan king was murdered by his daughter, and his daughter killed the heir he named after she’d realized what an asset she lost when she’d given up the throne. She had every witness killed from the king’s household and royal guard down to the prince’s. And now she’s playing every Saiphan for a fool, putting up a convincing act so that the whole planet mourns the loss of their king and prince, but also rejoices at the return of their princess.”
Ouuuch!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“He was a fool,” Jun said quietly. “He loved dearly and trusted blindly.”
Oh, don't say that, Jun dear! That's not (entirely) a bad thing either!

“The only lands you know that you took,” Sho corrected. “You’ve taken so much from us. I understand now why you’re here. If you followed the late prince, you’ve been as blind as him.”
Well, damn.
Must have felt pretty bad for Jun to find out about the things his father did in this way... :/

“I’m not helping you because I pity you or because I want a reward from you,” Jun said firmly. “I’m helping you because I know what it’s like.”
“What’s what like?” Sho asked, eyes on his.
“To fight alone,” Jun said.
They have more in common than they think, don't they?

“Do you enjoy deluding me to a false sense of security on the day I almost got assassinated? Your timing is commendable. Pray tell, what other lies will you tell your enemy today, Matsumoto Jun?”
Mention of false sense of security reminds me of Sho saying that in RL. Indeed, he'd hate it!

“Because I’m on my own!” Sho told him. “I’ve always been on my own! I have no one!”
“You have me!” Jun cried.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, well, well.... :D

“I want him part of my personal guard. See it done.”
Even more !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I'll be back with comments for the second part asap~~~)

[marisakujun]

Hello dear anon!
I'm so excited about this fic, because I love the idea of a Sakumoto AU inspired on Captive Prince, since I'm a big fan of that books, and when I read them (I don't know why) SJ was totally in my mind, like they can be perfectly some kind of version of Laurent and Damen....SO when I read the plot I almost scream. It's like a wish come true!!! Thank you! I'm so exciting for read this!!!!!!!!!

YOU'RE THE BEST <33333333333333333333333333333