Gift fic for akhikaru 2/4

[stormymood]

A piece of rainbow for akhikaru  Part 2



“This is a stupid game,” Jun declared.

Six hours of travel time meant that he and Ninomiya took turns in watching the ship from the bridge despite the autopilot working perfectly. It also meant that with Ohno and Sho staying in other parts of the ship, the bridge was the only place where they had authority.

“It’s stupid because you’re losing,” Ninomiya said.

Ninomiya had offered to teach him a game involving an old deck of cards patterned after the ones last seen in the Old World in order to pass the time, and when he’d assured Jun that there’d be no wagers involved, Jun had agreed.

And now Jun was losing. Terribly.

“I’ve never seen cards like these before in my life,” Jun complained. Ninomiya’s deck had fifty-two cards. The deck Jun had played with back in Saiph had forty, but each card was taller compared to the ones Jun held. And they’d been electronic, lighting up at the touch. Not like these tattered, printed ones Ninomiya had.

“Because they’re vintage,” Ninomiya said. “You don’t see them in your planet; you’re too advanced for it. But in the outer rim, this is the fastest way to get money.”

“What, distract your opponent with a card game so convoluted they actually forget to watch their personal belongings?” Jun asked, fingers poised to draw a card from Ninomiya’s fingers. They’d been drawing alternately for the past half hour, and Jun had the losing card. Ninomiya had called it the joker.

“In the outer rim, this game is for children,” Ninomiya told him. “The skilled ones—like yours truly, of course—play something else that involves real money and having a straight face at all times.” Ninomiya smiled at him. “You’re not very good at keeping a neutral expression, Matsumoto.”

Jun had always been told he made a decent player out of everything he’d taken part in. But looking back now, he’d played all those games with members of his household, his personal guard, his servants. He’d won all the time too, and perhaps they’d been simply letting him win out of reverence.

“I’ll beat you,” Jun said, schooling his features to nonchalance when Ninomiya deftly avoided the trap he’d set.

“Unlikely, but believe what you will,” Ninomiya said with a smile.

Ninomiya’s joker remained in Jun’s hand even after the next three draws, and Jun was beginning to get desperate. He’d never lost a game in his life. There were only a few turns left.

Looking past the cards in Ninomiya’s hand and right at his face revealed a smirk, and Jun quirked a well-practiced eyebrow. He knew how to intimidate people.

“Do you think you’re winning?” he asked.

“I am winning,” Ninomiya said.

“Perhaps I’m simply letting you believe that until it’s too late,” Jun said.

“I’m winning, Matsumoto,” Ninomiya said, just as he pulled a card from Jun’s stack, finishing the game. He made a little triumphant noise and smiled at Jun. “I’ve been playing this since I was a pubescent kid; I know the signs of the losing side.”

“I’ll beat you one day,” Jun promised.

Ninomiya stacked his cards neatly and bound them, tucking the deck inside his pocket of his trousers. Unlike Jun, he’d changed back to the clothes he wore at the camp. “That’s cute.”

Jun glared at him, and Ninomiya chuckled. “One day,” he repeated.

“Tell you what,” Ninomiya said, pulling out the cards once more and handing them to Jun, “you can practice with these.” Jun stared at his outstretched hand. “When you’re better, challenge me again. If you beat me, I’m taking them back.”

Jun accepted the deck, its fraying edges feeling more comfortable than the finest silk he’d touched. Ninomiya might be the closest thing to a friend that he had now.

“Thank you,” Jun said for the first time since his arrival at Hamal.

“It’s not a gift,” Ninomiya said, grinning. “I just want you to last for more than an hour against me next time.”

“And I will,” Jun promised. “You will lose next time.”

Ninomiya only laughed loudly, and Jun allowed himself to let out a few chuckles of his own.

--

Their return to the camp was welcomed by Aiba’s sentry and some of Ohno’s men. Jun now knew that this spaceport was once an abandoned port, only put to use when Sho had decided to set his camp here. No one would look, Ohno had explained. The outskirts had no place for people of nobility.

Jun had willed himself not to glance at Sho then.

“We’re relieved to see you safe, Highness,” Aiba said after a bow. “We await your orders.”

“Any casualties or happenings while I was absent?” Sho asked. He did a quick sweep of the people gathered around them and looked at Aiba once more. “I don’t see Toma.”

“There’s been a delay with the supply of power cells from Cygni,” Aiba reported. “I ordered him to take a look and return with the cells.”

“Tell our contact in Cygni that I demand twenty more cells as compensation for the delay,” Sho said.

Jun saw Aiba blink. “Twenty, Highness?” Aiba repeated. Had Jun been in Aiba’s place, he would’ve done the same. For a merchant, twenty power cells cost a fortune.

“Yes, twenty,” Sho said. “If he refuses, tell him that his trade contract with Hamal won’t be renewed for the following year.”

Jun thought that was a bit extreme, but when he opened his mouth, he caught the way Ohno was looking at him and closed his mouth, inclining his head begrudgingly in acceptance.

“Understood, Highness,” Aiba said after a moment. “Will that be all?”

Sho smiled. “Yes, that will be all, lieutenant. Dismissed.”

Aiba gestured to the rest of his men, and they assumed lines and stepped aside, making way for Sho.

“Keiko,” Sho greeted, and Jun saw a petite woman with her hair tied in a bun pulled so tight he could see the strain on her temples. Jun had never seen her on this camp before, and she looked regal, like her presence alone would be enough to silence a crowd despite being dressed in a battered down coat and trousers made of old leather.

Keiko put her fist over her heart and bowed. “Your Highness.”

Sho turned to Jun, extending a hand towards the woman. “Matsumoto, this is Kitagawa, the head of my personal security. Keiko-chan, your new recruit.”

The single indication of her surprise was the narrowing of her eyes. “The Saiphan?”

“Yes, the Saiphan,” Sho said in confirmation, and he appeared amused at the idea. Jun supposed it was rather interesting for someone like Sho when the air around them turned tense. Everybody had heard what Sho had said. “You will find that he can shoot a phaser and actually hit the target. Not as skilled as you, of course, but he managed.”

“I’ve heard what happened in Sheratan from the captain, Your Highness,” Keiko said. She looked displeased. “I advised you to take some of my men with you back when you received the transmission requesting your return.”

“And I didn’t take heed and almost died,” Sho said. “Yes, I was wrong.” He only looked regretful for a second, the expression easily replaced by a smile. “But I came back with a replacement.”

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I will accept any punishment for my insolence, but with your permission,” Keiko began, and Jun saw Sho smile wider before nodding, “I don’t trust the Saiphan to uphold our mission in keeping you safe. Their people—”

“—are bloodthirsty murderers who take our lands and lay claim on our mines,” Sho finished. “And yet, Matsumoto here has disarmed three assassins who found me when I was conveniently weakened by a poisoned dinner. I value your input, Keiko-chan, and I know you will never trust him. But you trust my decision, yes?”

“You’ve been wrong before,” Keiko pointed out. She looked disapproving still, and not once did Jun catch her eye. She was glaring at Sho like she wanted to knock some sense into him.

It was a look Jun could say he once sported on his face.

“And if I’m wrong again, I will pass the Crown of Hamal to you as soon as I get it,” Sho said. Then his voice changed when he added, “It’s about time we find a replace for Nagase-kun, isn’t it?”

Keiko fell silent then, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. When she opened them again, she finally looked at Jun.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” she said.

Sho turned to face him. “Do whatever she says, whatever she asks for. When your duties are done, report back to me. Understood?”

“Yes,” Jun said, his lips hardly moving.

“Ninomiya,” Sho said, looking past Jun.

“Yeah?” Ninomiya asked cheekily. He’d been standing behind Ohno, the both of them somewhere behind Jun, and Jun saw some of the men take insult at his reply, glaring at Ninomiya, but there were others who were simply appalled.

“You’re a skilled navigator,” Sho said.

“Glad you think so,” Ninomiya said.

“You’re being transferred to Aiba’s division,” Sho said. “Aiba-chan, I want him in the shipyard. If there are faulty navigation systems in any of our spacecrafts, make him fix it.” To Ninomiya, he said, “And if there are any other skills you possess regarding spacecrafts, I want them utilized.”

“You can’t afford me,” Ninomiya said, grinning.

“Yes, I can,” Sho said confidently. “Now that you’re part of the shipyard, you no longer have to stay in the tents Ohno’s men are provided with.”

Jun looked over his shoulder and saw how Ninomiya was considering that offer. Aiba’s men had more privileges and better facilities. In Jun’s stay there, he’d never had to bathe with fourteen other men simultaneously.

“And you can shave that stubble that seems to irritate you every now and then,” Sho said. “Aiba’s sentry is provided with the proper tools for that.”

For a moment, Jun was impressed. He’d seen Ninomiya scratch his cheek once in a while in the ship. Little things that Jun wouldn’t pay any mind, but apparently they had meant something.

“All right, princeling,” Ninomiya agreed. “And that’s only because I miss sonic showers.”

“That will be all,” Sho said, raising his voice so he’d be heard by everyone. “Thank you for the welcome. I am pleased to return. Return to your stations, perform your duties. Satoshi-kun, Keiko-chan, with me.”

“Report to the dome beside His Highness’,” Keiko said to him after she’d nodded at Sho’s beckoning. “Don’t do anything until I come back.”

“Understood,” Jun said, and like the rest of the men, he went off. If he felt any of the stares directed at him, he noted that they were an improvement over the last time. There was less contempt and anger; curiosity had replaced it.

Jun knew what might be going on in the minds of most men, and that no matter what he said, they wouldn’t believe him.

Let them talk, he thought. He’d earned a place here now. No matter what he did, they’d keep talking.

--

Jun never noticed the dome Keiko had indicated, but there was indeed a smaller one standing next to Sho’s. Sho had his at the center of the camp and it was perhaps the largest, effectively concealing the smaller one that stood close to it.

The doors hissed open quietly after Jun stood in the line of sight of the security camera. He saw no console that would require his identity, so he assumed there was someone inside who let him in.

There was a short corridor just beyond, and when Jun reached the center, he found it to be full of bunk beds.

It was like a dormitory. He saw a few men and women having a chat, and they all halted when he came in.

This, Jun was accustomed to. People go silent in the presence of a prince.

“You’re Nagase-san’s replacement?” one of them asked.

Jun kept hearing that name but had no idea what had truly happened to him. He could remember Ikuta first mentioning the name in front of Aiba and Kazama, but nothing more.

“What happened to him?” Jun asked.

They seemed to stop at the realization that they were talking to a Saiphan. Jun noticed the tension in the air that had followed his query and said, “It’s none of my business.”

“Killed,” one of them replied, a woman who sat at the edge of her bed. She had the top bunk, and Jun had to look up at her to see her face. Her long hair was tied to a bun like Keiko’s, but she looked younger than Keiko, her appearance more slender. “He was sent to a surveillance mission. He reported about the status of the mines your planet took from us, but he got followed.”

“The Emperor Apparent disapproved of all reconnaissance missions after that,” one man said. He was taller than Jun but leaner in built, and he eyed Jun with distrust. Jun was familiar to the sight of it by now.

“I’m sorry,” Jun found himself saying, regret making him look down in shame. He could’ve prevented it from happening entirely, had he known the truth, the extent of his father’s measures. He’d had power then.

“Your people killed him,” one said.

“Yes, and I’m sorry,” Jun said.

“Are you here to atone or to replace him?” the same woman from earlier asked. She tilted her head in question.

“The future emperor introduced me to the head of his security as a replacement,” Jun said.

“Yes, we received word of that. We didn’t join the welcoming because Keiko-san said the spaceport was too small for all of the men to fit inside,” the same woman told him.

“What exactly did Nagase-san do?” Jun asked. If he was going to replace a man, he knew they’d expect him to be like him or be better than him even.

The faces around him were full of surprise for a moment.

Then, the woman said, “He was His Highness’ closest bodyguard. He went wherever His Highness was, did whatever he asked. He reported directly to him.”

At the look on Jun’s face, the man from earlier nodded. “Yes, now you understand why it didn’t make sense to any of us, even to the ones present there. What sort of emperor would make his sworn enemy the man whom he trusts with his life the most?”

There was no one like him in the galaxy, Jun thought.

“Your future emperor,” Jun said.

--

Keiko did no introduction; she claimed there wasn’t any time for it as soon as she had returned. She gave Jun a quick tour of the dome and outlined the training that he’d go through the following day.

The woman from earlier was introduced as Kiko, and she was the only one who showed Jun a somewhat friendly demeanor. Her reason had been “He’s part of us now. If he was the one who killed Nagase-san, he would be dead by now on the Emperor Apparent’s word,” when asked.

Kiko was the training commander, and Keiko boasted that no one in Sho’s personal security has matched her agility. It would be Kiko who would personally oversee the extent of Jun’s skills, and his sword training would be with her.

The guns, meanwhile, were Keiko’s specialty.

“His Highness said you can fire a phaser adequately,” Keiko said to him later when she took him to the mess hall. They ate in the same dome as Aiba’s men did; only Ohno’s were kept separate.

“Yes,” Jun affirmed.

“Left or right?”

“Right,” Jun said. “I favor my right.”

“For now, you do. In two months, it’ll be both,” Keiko said. “Same with your swordhand. You have two hands; I need two hands. How’s your footwork?”

“Rusty but I had military training,” Jun said. He had the best of his men teach him personally. He took pride in what he’d learned.

Keiko regarded him after that. “His Highness never said that.”

“He never knew,” Jun said. He only told Aiba, Ikuta, and Kazama. Ohno had known of course; he had implemented the drills back when Jun had stayed in his division. Jun suspected that it was that ability of his that convinced Ohno to bring him along to Sheratan.

“When you finish your dinner, we go to the floor,” Keiko said.

The floor meant that Keiko wanted a demonstration of Jun’s abilities. As soon as Jun finished his early dinner, he returned to the dome and found that all the beds had been pushed to the side to make space and several mats had been laid out.

“Dress down and get ready,” Keiko said. She lost the coat and wore a training overall now, and she walked towards the center of the mat.

“I have to fight you in front of everyone?” Jun asked. He did as Keiko directed, discarding his shirt and leaving only his trousers on, standing in the middle before her.

“Call it an initiation or whatever you will,” Keiko said. “I call it a study. I need to see what you can do. Everybody needs to see what you can do. We all have our own specialties here. If you’re to be His Highness’ personal bodyguard, you will have to be as good as more than half of us combined.”

That was a lot of pressure on Jun’s shoulders. But he was used to pressure, to being challenged. When he’d been named Crown Prince, much had been expected of him. He’d had to rise above them.

“I won’t go easy on you,” Keiko said. Despite her small built, when she assumed her stance, Jun was a little intimidated. “I didn’t earn my place here by going easy on people.”

Jun understood. Hamal was still traditional in some ways. Women weren’t granted the same privileges as men—they had to earn it. Even Sho’s mother had to fight for her crown.

“I never expected you to do so,” Jun said. He braced himself, and when Keiko moved, he discovered that she was quick on her feet and focused on her attacks. Her jabs were aimed right where it would hurt; all the vulnerable spots that could only sustain a few hits.

If he wasn’t careful, he’d be seeing Okada in the next few minutes.

He blocked all the blows he could catch, and he found out that Keiko was the type to change her strategy immediately when her first approach didn’t work. She looked nimble as she moved, but her swift-footed spins and ducks soon confused Jun, and he left an opening unintentionally.

She hit hard. Jun had to take a step back when she made contact with his side, a hand flying to the now sore spot. Keiko then dropped to the ground and swept her legs under Jun’s, and Jun quickly lost his footing.

He fell on his back and Keiko stood over him, her head tilted.

“You don’t watch your back,” she commented. “You have the skills, I’ll give you that, but you don’t guard yourself enough.”

The last time Jun had sparred with someone, they had been with his trusted men. They’d never hurt him, and it had given him the confidence to attack without holding back. Defense hadn’t been his priority. But things were different now; he had someone to protect now.

“Also,” Keiko said, “were you holding back?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Jun said.

“You can’t hurt me,” Keiko told him immediately, flatly. “But if you hesitate again, it’s not only your life that’s at stake. It’s his life as well, His Highness’. If he dies and you do not, I guarantee that I will kill you myself for failing to perform your duty.”

Keiko offered a hand to pull him up and he accepted, and he was surprised at the strength she had. For such a small built compared to his own, she packed a lot of force and stamina. That was something that could only be achieved through years of hard work and training.

Wherever Keiko came from, she’d worked tirelessly and true to earn a spot here, a position of tremendous honor.

“One more,” Sho said.

They all turned to the direction of the voice, and Jun found Sho leaning against one of the bunk beds shoved to the side, arms crossed over his chest.

“Your Highness,” Keiko said in greeting while their audience bowed their heads in respect. “My apologies; we didn’t notice you were here.”

“Which means you put up a very interesting show, Keiko-chan. Another,” Sho said genially. Jun hadn’t thought Sho could sound like that to anyone.

“As you wish,” Keiko said, and she turned to Jun. “Give it everything you’ve got.”

“Everything?” Jun asked, but his voice was softer now; only Keiko could hear him.

“Did you think he’s here for me? He’s seen me fight countless times,” Keiko said.

That was all she said before she went for the first jab, her fist making contact against Jun’s breastbone. Jun staggered but he caught himself, and he fended off her subsequent blows by meeting them head on. Keiko didn’t block his blows; she evaded them because she was lighter and quicker than him. If speed was the basis alone, Jun knew he’d lose to her.

But it was speed and strength and skill that they were after—that Sho was after. Jun could feel Sho watching intently, and he was overcome with the desire to prove himself. His days in Ohno’s camp had hardened him, taught him endurance. He could last in this ring.

The first blow he was able to land hit Keiko square in the stomach. She compensated for the impact by putting her weight on her heels, but she still took a couple of steps back.

“Like that,” Keiko said, and Jun saw her smile the first time.

Her fist collided with his jaw, and Jun shielded himself from the subsequent blow by taking the impact on his forearm. He retaliated with a kick aiming for her side, but she sidestepped it easily and jammed her elbow into Jun’s back.

Jun was nearly sent to his knees, and he looked at her in confusion.

“Whoever’s going to kill you won’t play fair,” she said. “You will do well to forget honor in such fights.”

“This is a spar,” Jun said.

“No,” Keiko said. She looked past Jun, to where Sho stood watching. “This is your training, and it has begun.”

Jun stopped sticking to the rules of a fair fight then. He delivered punches where he knew it’d hurt, where it’d likely bruise if it made contact. He trusted in Keiko’s abilities to evade and hit back as hard as he could, till the impact of every punch he’d delivered traveled up to his shoulder because of the strain.

By the end of it, Jun was sweating, his muscles aching in places. His left side, the one he’d guarded the least, would likely bruise. Keiko was adept at finding weaknesses in such a short span of time. So far, the only weakness Jun had seen in her was the strength of her punches. Compared to his, they had less force in them, but that didn’t make them less deadly. She knew where to hit.

“Well, Keiko-chan?” Sho asked, and they all faced him.

“Yes,” Keiko said, nodding. She wiped a trail of sweat on her forehead with the back of her hand. “There’s still room for improvement, but we can do something about that. I think he’s an adequate replacement.”

“Adequate,” Sho repeated with a smile. “Must you be so severe with your criticisms over my choices every time?”

“I specifically told you not to return to Sheratan alone. To take one or two of us with you,” Keiko said, and she directed a disapproving look at Sho.

“Ah, that again,” Sho said, scoffing. “Had I followed your advice, Nagase-kun’s spot will still be empty, no?”

“If you wanted a bodyguard, I could have arranged a roster for you to choose from,” Keiko said.

“But I didn’t want just any bodyguard,” Sho said. His eyes met Jun’s. “Freshen up and report back to me as soon as you’re done.”

Sho left then, and as soon as they could no longer see his figure, Jun heard one of the men behind him ask, “So they’re fucking?”

Jun sighed in combined exhaustion and annoyance. When he lifted his gaze, Keiko was looking at him.

“We’re not,” he said. “I just saved his life, that’s all.”

Keiko inclined her head in reply and said to the rest of the people gathered, “You heard him. Enough of this gossip; we’re not shipyard workers or runaway criminals. We’re the Emperor Apparent’s personal guard, and this is the last time I will allow such talk in here. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” everyone around them said in affirmation, and the crowd began to disperse.

Jun left for the sonic showers, intending for it to be quick so he could report immediately to Sho. The less time he spent with Sho, the better. The man was still infuriating, his thought processes highly unpredictable. Jun never understood why he did what he’d done.

He was the most difficult man Jun had met in his life, but also the one keeping him alive at present. Months ago, Sho had wanted him to die. And now he seemed to have trusted Jun with his life, but a part of Jun wondered if it was all a trick. He wouldn’t put it past someone like Sho.

It would help, Jun thought, if he could ask the man himself about these things. But Jun figured he wouldn’t like whatever answer; Sho knew how to annoy him.

He treated his shower as a form of mental preparation. It was Sho he’d be dealing with next. Given the choice, he’d choose Keiko’s punches over Sho’s words.

He dressed quickly, back in the tunic and the trousers commonly worn by people in the camp, and made his way to Sho’s dome without enthusiasm.

--

“You can fight,” was how Sho welcomed him as soon as he entered the settlement.

“Did you have any doubts regarding that?” Jun asked.

Sho was standing behind the same table Jun had seen the last time, only that its surface was now devoid of pads. Instead, the items on the surface were one pad, two sets of phasers, one plasma gun, and a saber. Sho was touching the plasma gun idly, fingers dancing an irregular rhythm on its surface.

Sho hummed, and Jun knew his question would go unanswered. “You seem larger since the last time,” Sho said. “Especially around the shoulders.”

Jun suddenly felt self-conscious. The tunic that he wore was loose on him, and Sho had to be referring to how his body had looked like back in the floor with Keiko earlier.

“Thank Ohno’s morning drills for that,” he said. Then he frowned. “You didn’t ask me to come here to talk about my figure.”

“No, I asked you to come here because I wanted you to put on these,” Sho said, and he reached under the table to place a set of clothes on top of the table. There were trousers and a thick jacket, both of which were made of leather, but unlike the ones Jun had worn in Sheratan, these looked new. Recently made.

“They were for Nagase-kun,” Sho explained. “I never opened them because when they arrived here; he was already gone. Since you’re replacing him, I thought I might as well put you in clothes that’ll signify your status here.”

Jun examined the clothes he’d been given, and he saw numerous secret pockets. Unfolding the jacket revealed that there were utility belts chucked inside it, and when he looked at Sho once more, Sho placed a pair of boots on top of the table. Everything looked preordered, and Jun wondered if they’d been intended as a birthday present.

The next thing Sho lifted was the armor, a fitted chest piece that would serve to block most phaser fires or any kind of blows. As long as a saber didn’t pierce through it, the worse Jun would sustain were bruises.

“This is all of it?” Jun asked.

“Not quite,” Sho said. He fished for something inside his pocket, and he offered his palm to Jun.

It was his crest. Jun could recognize Sho’s personal crest on the badge, a seasonal flower engraved in neutronium alloy.

“My personal bodyguard is distinguished among all my men,” Sho said. “You can wear the clothes, but they won’t truly mean a thing unless you wear this as well.”

Jun took the badge and pinned it on his tunic, the sensation strange and unfamiliar. He’d never required anybody’s protection before.

“Are we done?” Jun asked.

“That eager to leave?” Sho asked back.

“Every time I’m in a room with you, we always engage in a verbal battle,” Jun said.

“Do you want to have one now?”

He thought about it, and he knew it wouldn’t be worth the exhaustion.

Sighing, he said, “Just get this over with.”

Sho powered on the pad, and Jun tried not to look too surprised at his apparent cooperation. Sho shoved the pad in front of him, and Jun picked it up.

“You can read Denebian, yes?” Sho asked.

“I can,” Jun said, eyes already scanning over the characters. The Denebian language favored symbols, and each symbol corresponded to a three-letter word. Every word in their language consisted of three letters in the common tongue, and it made the translation challenging. Jun had loathed the language out of all that he had to learn. But he’d learned it.

“Read what it says then.”

Jun lifted his eyes to meet Sho’s and asked, “Do you require a translation?”

“No, one translation refusal from you was quite enough, thank you. Besides, I already read it.”

Jun resumed reading, and it took him a few moments to piece together the facts. This was a private transmission, granting Sho’s request for a private audience with the Denebian queen. There were no other details aside from the meeting place and the appointed time.

“You want me to come with you,” Jun concluded as soon as he returned the pad to Sho.

“No, I expect you to come with me,” Sho said. “Have you ever met the Denebian queen?”

Jun shook his head. “She was notorious for refusing the Saiphan royalty given her distrust of men.” Realizing his mistake, he added, “Denebia never dealt with Saiphans in any of their trading affairs. In general, I think they hate our planet.” Amusement dashed over Sho’s eyes at that statement. “How did you get her to grant you audience? The Saiphan king never managed to.”

“Then it’s fortunate that I am not the late Saiphan king,” Sho said, answering nothing at all.

Jun supposed he better get used to Sho not answering any of his questions. He was no longer a prince; he couldn’t demand for anything even if it frustrated him.

“When do we leave?” he asked instead.

“When Keiko allows us to,” Sho said. “In two weeks, perhaps.”

“Two weeks from now? You’re her future emperor.”

“It’s not me she has doubts about.”

It sank in, and Jun wanted to sigh. “You intend to leave with just the two of us.”

“Actually, my initial plan was to leave on my own,” Sho said.

“You can’t,” Jun said immediately. “Not after Sheratan.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m forced to take you,” Sho said. “Do you think I want you to come along? I’m taking you because I have to.”

“You don’t have to if you didn’t make me your personal bodyguard,” Jun pointed out.

“Because I was starting to fear for my men,” Sho told him. “I thought I had to keep a close eye on you. You already punched one of them, didn’t you? I heard that you nearly killed him.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Jun said.

“Regardless if that word was embellished or not, I have to take you along to protect my men and keep Keiko’s sanity intact. This inconveniences me greatly, I’ll have you know.”

“Why? Because you’re so used to doing everything on your own?”

Sho gave him a look. “I don’t really need you. Do you think the Denebian queen will have me killed?”

“She doesn’t trust men,” Jun said. Rina had always said that was rather clever of the Denebian queen. “It’s a miracle you got her to trust you.”

“I have my ways,” Sho said. “I can make her talk to me if that’s your concern.”

“That’s not my concern,” Jun told him. “My concern is that your initial plan is to run off again, as if you’re not an important figure in this camp. If something happens to you, what do you think will happen to the rest of your men, to this camp? You’re not thinking like a leader; you’re thinking like…”

Sho eyed him. “Like?”

Jun remembered Ohno’s words and said in a quiet voice, “Like a key player.”

“How do you think I survived all these years?” Sho asked.

“Do you even know your place in this chessboard you’re playing in?” Jun didn’t even know whose board it was they were in; all he knew was that every soldier in this camp was perhaps a pawn for whoever orchestrated this game.

“Yes,” Sho said confidently. “Do you?”

“Yes,” he answered with equal determination. The badge on his chest felt heavier for reasons he couldn’t name. “I promised I’ll help you. That is my place.” By your side if that was what was needed, he didn’t say.

Sho regarded him, and Jun stood his ground. He’d never go back on his word. Here, he was part of something, had something to fight for.

“Can you take us to Denebia?” Sho asked after the silence had passed.

“Yes,” Jun said. “Without Ninomiya, it’ll take longer, but you won’t be late if we leave soon.”

“How long?” Sho asked.

“Three days maximum,” Jun said. “You’ll be late if we wait for two weeks, and I’d wager the Denebian queen will take no excuses and bar all communication with you should that happen.”

Sho looked at him and smiled, and Jun braced himself. Nothing good had come out of Sho directing a smile at him.

“Then you have a week.” Jun couldn’t hide his surprise, and Sho continued, “I’m giving you an entire week to convince Keiko that you can be trusted to come with me. I don’t care if you have to defeat all her men and women to do it. Get it done. Are we clear on this?”

“Yes,” Jun said with his chin high. He could do it. He knew that if he failed this, Sho would leave on his own. It was very likely that no one else knew about this Denebian transmission. Sho would perhaps come up with a lie or claim he’d been summoned by his mother, and Jun couldn’t let that happen.

As stubborn as the man was, Sho was needed here. The sooner his business with Denebia was concluded, the better.

“You seem very confident,” Sho said after a moment.

Jun leveled Sho’s gaze with one of his own.

“Watch me.”

--

“Denebia?” was how Keiko welcomed Jun the following morning. Jun supposed Sho had told her and no one else.

“I have seven days to get your approval,” Jun said. They were in the artillery, and Keiko was scheduled to orient him about marksmanship. Now she had to teach everything to him in less than a week.

“You need more than seven days,” she said immediately. Jun appreciated her honesty. If that was Keiko’s assessment of him, all he had to do was to prove her wrong.

Keiko lifted a plasma gun, its base resting on her shoulder, and took aim. She handed the gun to Jun and Jun imitated her as best as he could.

“Relax,” Keiko said.

“I’m supposed to relax when I’m about to shoot someone?” Jun asked.

“Yes,” Keiko said. “So you don’t miss. Every charge counts in the field, Matsumoto. Aim for the head if you can. If not, the heart. If not possible, the lower back, near the end of the spine.”

Jun looked at her for an explanation and she added, “Damage the spine and they can’t walk.”

“But they can still shoot,” Jun pointed out.

“That’s why you aim for the head first,” Keiko said. “What did you use in Sheratan when you saved his life?”

Jun lowered the plasma gun and picked up two handheld phasers of the similar type as the ones he’d used then. He remembered surrendering the weapons to Ohno before their arrival here. He didn’t know what became of them.

Keiko only gave a brief, passing glance over the weapons. “And where did you hit them?”

“The chest, I think,” Jun said. He didn’t really remember; he was only after the result. “Enough to knock them out.”

She took one phaser from him and flipped the switch from stun to kill. Jun’s breath caught at the sight of it. “This is how it’s going to be most of the time. You said you have an entire week and you’re off to do whatever he asks you to do? Then I’m not going to teach you to stun people. You have to learn how to kill them.”

“What do you think of when you kill?” Jun asked. He had no judgments; he was simply curious. He’d heard that men think of different things. Some think of cutting or shooting down animals since the idea was easier to bear when you still have a conscience. Some think of it as it is.

But Keiko wasn’t a man, and Jun truly wanted to know.

“My duty,” she said. “I have to protect him because no one else can protect us, his people. If I fail to do that, I fail my people, my planet. I think of the oath I swore to him on the day he chose me instead of all the men they put in the roster for him.” Jun could see the pride in her eyes. “He chose me when his mother’s council gave him twenty good men to choose from.”

“Did he ever tell you his reason?” Jun asked.

Keiko picked up both phasers and aimed, and Jun watched as she hit the practice targets in the head twice on the same spot.

Jun was stunned. He knew he couldn’t do that.

“I’m the best there is,” Keiko said. She wasn’t bragging, merely telling the truth. “But they looked down on me because I am a woman. He didn’t. He acknowledged my skill, granted me the honor I deserved.” She held the barrel of the phaser and pressed its grip against Jun’s chest. “Show me why he chose you.”

She was looking at his badge as she said that. Jun almost told her that Sho had chosen him out of convenience, so Sho could watch over him. That it was all the other way around.

“I can’t do what you just did,” Jun admitted, taking the phaser anyway. He aimed, and he felt Keiko’s gaze on him.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she told him. “Straighten out your arm, but don’t make it stiff. Good. Relax your shoulders.”

Jun took a deep breath and aimed for the target’s head. He fired off one charge, and it hit the target’s neck instead.

“Don’t close one eye,” Keiko said. “That’s the common mistake.”

“That’s what they taught me in Saiph,” Jun said.

“And your teacher then was a man,” Keiko said. “If you close one eye, the remaining eye’s focus shifts to compensate for the lack of the other. Open both and you aim true.”

Jun did as she told him, aimed again, and hit the target’s chin this time.

“Women know better,” said Keiko, and Jun found himself nodding.

--

The first few days of learning that Jun had was spent with him pushing himself to the extreme. Keiko was relentless in correcting his grip and stance. She had him do away with most of what he’d learned. In Saiph, Jun had been taught because he’d wished for it. The captain who’d taught Jun had Jun learn side-by-side with his son, and as teenagers, they’d practiced on one another. The captain’s son eventually became the captain of Jun’s personal guard, sworn to protect him in times of need.

Jun would remember him whenever he followed Keiko’s advice. With each aim, each gun he lifted, each shot he fired, he’d remember his men, those that Sho had claimed were likely dead. In his heart, he hoped for otherwise, but he knew it to be true. He didn’t remember seeing his captain that night.

“Again,” Keiko said, and she kept repeating that every time Jun got it right. Even though Jun’s muscles ached, he did as she asked and persevered.

He had to crouch then aim, roll over his back and aim. Each time, Keiko would correct the angle of his weapon, help him see things in her eyes. She was more than capable, and Jun could see why Sho had chosen her. Her stature and built were all designed to fool opponents into belittling her.

By the third night, Keiko had dinner brought to them since they were far from done. Over bread and a few pieces of meat and some corn that had to be imported from somewhere, Jun found the courage to ask.

“Do you think I have to kill soldiers in Denebia?”

He didn’t want to. If he could, he’d stun them all.

“I think you have to be ready either way,” Keiko said.

“Denebia is a planet governed by women. Their queen never accepted the Saiphan king’s request for an audience because she didn’t trust him. And the day after tomorrow, I’m going there with your future emperor, and we’re both men.”

Keiko finished her corn before she spoke. “My husband is out there, doing reconnaissance.”

Jun stared at her. Sho had never mentioned anything about this.

“His Highness trusted him with serving as a patrol around Denebian territory, in case the Saiphans set their eyes on having Denebia as their ally.” Jun saw a flash of Keiko’s smile for a moment. “After Nagase-san, reconnaissance work was forbidden by the Emperor Apparent. But my husband was insistent; he was a spy before, you see.”

“He allowed your husband to go?”

“He didn’t,” Keiko said. “I did.” She faced Jun, her eyes set with conviction. “We gave His Highness no choice on the matter.”

“Did he punish you for it?”

Keiko snorted, and she looked close to laughing. “Yes. Quite recently, in fact.” She pointed at Jun. “He gave me you.”

Jun nodded in understanding. There were things only Sho would do, and as always, Jun only realized them once they were in place.

“You don’t understand,” Keiko said.

“No, I understand perfectly,” Jun said. “I’m a burden right now because you have to make me better before tomorrow comes and you have to hand over the rest of my training to Kiko-san. You spent most of this day trying to undo what I’ve learned because they’re wrong—they’re all principles of an honorable fight. And I should stop expecting for honor in this war.”

Keiko frowned. “That’s not why.”

Jun blinked at her in question.

“You’re the punishment because you’re very different from my husband,” Keiko told him. “He’s out there doing what he does because he knows he has to do it. You, on the other hand, you hesitate. You know what you have to do, but you doubt that you can do it.”

“I’m not a killer,” Jun said.

“War makes killers of us all,” Keiko said. “I don’t know what happened to you and how you got here, but you’re part of this now. You’re here, you’re wearing his crest, you have blisters on your fingers and feet marking the duration of your stay here. You’re involved, but a part of you wants to back out.”

“Is it so bad to not want for people to suffer?” Jun asked. Maybe he’d been naïve when he’d been Crown Prince. But he had wishes then, and he’d once thought that when he became king, he’d strive for diplomacy before war. “With my hesitation is a life or two spared.”

“And your own ended,” Keiko said. “If you don’t kill, they will do it first. They will kill all you love, leave you with nothing.”

Jun couldn’t help a bitter laugh from escaping. “They already have.”

Keiko fell silent at that, and Jun didn’t dare look at her. He was afraid she’d see through him, who he was. It was a miracle nobody had yet realized who he was.

“Then there will be a repeat of it,” Keiko said softly. “You fight and you give it all you’ve got because you have to prevent that.”

“There’s no one,” Jun said quietly. “They left no one. They’re all gone. I’m all alone.”

It was the first time he’d addressed it.

“You have that,” Keiko said, and she delivered a weak punch to the badge resting on Jun’s heart. The impact was nothing compared to how hard Keiko had hit him before, but it resonated within Jun, waking every nerve ending. “He doesn’t give that to just anyone.”

Jun looked at her, and she appeared to know what he was about to say. Perhaps she did.

“What was Nagase-san like?”

It won him Keiko’s soft smile. “I was terrified of him when we first met. He was a large man. He was intimidating. But he was a delight, and he made all celebrations worth celebrating. He treated His Highness like a little brother he had to protect, and that made him fiercely loyal to him. Nagase-san was our best in hand-to-hand combat.”

Jun knew that whoever once held the badge he had on now, he had to be someone amazing.

“I’ll never be like him,” Jun said.

Keiko regarded him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it’s true.”

“No, why do you say that? No one expects you to be Nagase-san. You’re not even half the size that he was. You’re never going to be him.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

Keiko shook her head and sighed. “Men,” she said to herself in slight exasperation. “What I meant to say, Matsumoto, is that no one is waiting for you turn out like Nagase-san. If anything, I don’t want you to be like him.”

“You said he was one of your best,” Jun reminded her.

“Yes, he was, and he still died,” Keiko said. “Do you think I want you to die?”

“You won’t be the first person if that were the case.”

“If you die, I want it to be in the line of duty. Because you were protecting him, because you were by his side risking your life for his.” She looked at his chest. “That’s what the badge means. It means you’re not alone, and neither is he.”

Jun let out a breath. “I didn’t ask for any of this, you know.” When he’d been a little boy, he’d often pretended he was king despite knowing Rina was in line of the throne before he was.

Looking back, Jun thought that perhaps, he hadn’t come so far from that little boy. He still required validation in everything he did. He wasn’t the bravest nor the best of men. He wasn’t a warrior hero. But in hindsight, Sho had never asked for any of these either.

All that Sho had asked from him was to be ready in two days.

And Jun had promised him that he would be.

Jun stood and cleared their table before giving Keiko a determined stare.

“I need to know how to not leave my left unguarded,” he said.

Keiko grinned and jerked her head to the side. “Then let’s do more target practice, this time with your left hand.”

--

It was well past midnight by the time Jun made it back to Sho’s settlement.

“If you have the badge, you stay where he is,” Keiko had told him. Jun had slept in the dome beside Sho’s the nights before, and he hadn’t thought of the possibility until Keiko had ordered him to pack his belongings.

But where else was he supposed to be? He was Sho’s personal bodyguard now. It would explain all the stares he’d gotten from Sho’s personal security that morning. They had to be wondering why he hadn’t spent the first night at Sho’s dome.

He took care to make his steps lighter as he entered, and he found Sho still awake, perusing over pads, a few holograms turned on and spinning before his eyes.

“You didn’t sleep,” Jun said.

“I don’t sleep,” Sho said. He didn’t look at Jun. “How was your training with Keiko-chan?

“Productive.”

“She didn’t get angry at you?”

Jun frowned. He’d spent the days trying to avoid that, and he liked to think he’d succeeded. “Because you were trying to punish her through me? She told me.”

Sho smiled, his eyes fixed on the pad in his hands. “I can think of only one reason why she did that. You were being stubborn and hardheaded, as always.”

“You of all people would know how to behave like that.”

Sho waved his hand in dismissal. “Get some sleep. You’re obviously exhausted; your comebacks aren’t so interesting anymore.”

Jun left him after briefly checking their surroundings, and he found a decent-sized sleeping bag a few feet from Sho’s bed. Sho’s dome functioned more as a temporary house, except that it also had a study area where Sho often stayed. Jun assumed he’d held meetings with his captain and lieutenants there, had strategized and planned and rationalized.

Since Sho seemed busy with whatever he was doing, Jun decided to make himself familiar with Sho’s surroundings. This dome would be his sleeping quarters now. He had to know its every nook and cranny. The chances of someone attempting on Sho’s life while they remained here were low, but better not to be too trustworthy. Most of the men here still bore a grudge on Jun and his people. They might set him up.

He found a few personal belongings in Sho’s bathroom, and Jun decided that he’d have his baths in the other dome with the rest of Keiko’s men. There was no kitchen since Sho had his meals brought to him straight from the mess hall, but there was a mini library of sorts, filled with books.

Books were considered ancient in Saiph. Pads were the modern vessels of knowledge, but Jun as a kid had craved the warmth that books had emitted. The pages had felt different from the smooth glass surfaces and holograms. With books, he had to rely on his imagination. He’d felt as if he was granted more freedom with them.

For a moment, he wondered if it was the same for Sho. But there would be no point asking; the man would never answer him honestly.

He picked up an old tome about legends from the Old World and went to where Sho was.

“Come to say good night?” Sho asked, not sparing him a glance.

Jun ignored that question. He raised the book. “I’m borrowing this. Just letting you know so you don’t think that someone stole it from you.”

Sho lifted his gaze from the pad to look at his hand, eyes narrowing. “Reading before bedtime?”

“An old habit,” said Jun. He was about to leave, but Sho’s voice stopped him.

“Do you read often? Before you got here, of course.”

Jun’s mind was screaming at him to excuse himself. He had an early start a few hours from now with Kiko, and he was sufficiently exhausted from all his training with Keiko.

But he didn’t want to be rude. He’d been rude enough, and Sho still haven’t had him killed for any of it.

“I did,” he said. “I prefer books more than pads or holograms though.”

“Your people always referred to mine as traditional,” Sho said. “But that also meant that we had more books than you did.”

“I know. I’ve seen your royal library. Well, had a glimpse of it.” He turned, and he saw confusion on Sho’s face. He decided it was a good look on Sho. For once, Sho didn’t know everything. “Back then.”

“How did you know I frequent the library?” Sho asked.

Jun blinked at that. “I didn’t. I checked the place just in case.” His grip on the tome tightened, and he thought, why not? “Do you read often? Books, not pads.”

Sho regarded at him for a brief moment. “Yes. It comes with being the heir. But eventually, it became a habit.”

“Have you read this then?” Jun lifted the book once more.

“More than thrice,” Sho said.

“Any recommendations?”

Jun thought Sho would give him a rebuff or a scoff and braced himself for it, but when Sho spoke after what appeared to be careful consideration, he said, “The Old World once had an ancient civilization they called Greeks. I enjoyed reading their myths.”

Jun skimmed through a couple of pages and found an entire chapter divided into sections. “I’ll go check it out,” he said, nodding. He hesitated but added, “Good night,” before turning to leave.

He hadn’t thought he would receive a reply, but then:

“Good night,” Sho said in return, and it was the kindest thing Jun had heard from him.

--

If Keiko had been exacting with her corrections regarding Jun’s form, Kiko’s approach was different.

She handed Jun a staff made of polished oak and told him to treat it like a saber. Jun had held sabers before, and he trusted his swordhand to be stable and for his upper body to bear the weight and force as necessary. He’d been told his broad shoulders were good in absorbing the shock from blows.

“Keiko-chan told me you were fast at picking up and know how to follow instructions,” Kiko said brightly. She seemed to smile all the time now that they were alone. They were at the clearing located at the edge of the camp, and aside from the staffs, they had nothing else but the sabers and a few jugs of water.

“I did learn most of what she was trying to teach me,” Jun said. He wasn’t stellar, but he did well.

“I wouldn’t trust you yet with a rifle because the recoil isn’t something you can compensate for as of the moment, but he was right: you can fire a phaser,” Keiko had said.

Kiko hummed and nodded to herself, spinning her staff idly. “I don’t teach like Keiko-chan. And if you think she’s exhausted you, I intend to do twice of that.”

Once, Jun would have turned such a thing to an innuendo, especially when he had to put his charm to work.

If he did that now, he was almost a hundred percent certain Kiko would murder him and make it look like an accident.

Instead of replying, he assumed his battle stance and waited. Kiko circled him, looking thoughtful as she did so.

“Show me your jabs and all of your moves,” she said.

Jun did, and he worked up a good sweat by the time he finished. Kiko hadn’t given any comments until he was done.

“Keiko-chan was right; you don’t guard yourself.”

Jun didn’t have to, back then. That had been what his personal guard was for. “I was told to focus on my attacks, that my defense was not top priority. That changes now, of course.”

“Of course,” Kiko agreed. “We will spar now, and I want you to not hit back, but block. Deflect all of my attacks to the best of your ability. If you can’t keep up, try anyway.”

There was no further warning, and Jun had to duck at the sudden staff swipe that was aimed for his temple. He held the staff in both hands now, raising it to shield himself from the continuous blows. Kiko was the quickest of Sho’s guard, and her attack speed was nearly twice of what Keiko’s had been.

“Keep up,” Kiko said, and Jun saw her grinning. He could feel the adrenaline too, making his reflexes quicker to respond.

Jun winced when he was unable to flip his staff accordingly, causing Kiko to land a blow on his shoulder. She didn’t apologize for it, instead aimed for the same spot again, and Jun was able to raise his staff this time to block the blow.

“They’ll hit you where it hurts,” she told him. “If they hurt you, they’ll keep doing so. You have to make it look like the blow didn’t make contact even if it did.”

“You’re saying I have to control my facial expressions,” Jun said.

She smiled, and she did a lunge that aimed for Jun’s ribs. “That’s why people underestimate me. Because I look like this and I smile all the time. They see a sweet girl from the outskirts, not what I trained so hard to be.” Her grin disappeared, a fierceness in her expression now. “If you can make them underestimate you, you are at an advantage. Because they’ll never know what’ll hit them.”

“You speak like an assassin,” Jun said.

“I trained under a retired assassin,” Kiko said. “You seem surprised.”

Jun was more adjusted to the patterns of Kiko’s moves, and he was learning how to anticipate her attacks more accurately the longer they go on.

“I just didn’t think an assassin would train someone under their wing,” Jun said. What he knew of assassins (at least the once they’d put on court for trial in Saiph), they all had done it for the money, some for the reputation. None of them had done it for leaving a legacy behind.

He blinked, and Kiko looked like she was expecting what he’d say.

“You’re their child,” he said. “How did you get in his service?”

“The sins of the father aren’t carried over to his children,” Kiko said. “Do you Saiphans do it differently?”

Jun had to duck to evade a lunge aimed at his throat. “No. But all who serve in the Saiphan military had their training from the soldiers of the palace.”

“You’ve been here a while, I’m sure you know by now that our future emperor is rather unconventional.”

Sho had outlaws as part of his army, his sworn enemy as his personal bodyguard. Unconventional wasn’t even half of what he was.

“I noticed,” Jun said. “I won’t pry,” he added quickly. “In case you thought I would.”

It wasn’t his place to judge where people had come from. He’d been from somewhere else too, and he was being treated far better than he should’ve, considering the crimes his ancestors had committed in the past.

“Good,” Kiko said, and she sent Jun staggering back with a graceful spin of her staff. She walked away, and Jun saw her pick up another staff, swinging it to get used to its weight.

Seeing the look on his face, she said, “I fight with both hands. One saber in each. You don’t. And before you ask how I knew, it’s because you hold that staff like it’s all you’ve got. Your grip isn’t bad, but it makes no room for another weapon. Try to block both now.”

When she moved this time, she appeared to be dancing, the choreography of which seemed ingrained in her whole being. Her movements were so fluid Jun thought she could cut raindrops in half had she been swinging blades in the rain. Give her swords and they would sing.

She’d make war look beautiful, Jun thought.

He parried all her attacks as best as he could, no longer caring for grace. He only had one weapon, and he fought with it with all his might. She easily evaded his jabs with her swift feet, and she was able to disarm Jun with a feint. Jun thought she miscalculated, but it was a trick, and he only realized when the staff flew from his hand.

“Did you think I would fight fairly?” she asked, leaning against one staff as she allowed him to pick up his discarded one.

“No,” Jun said honestly. Keiko had spent hours lecturing him about forgetting honor. This was practice, soon to be applied in the worst scenarios. “I thought I saw an opening. I should’ve known better.”

“Let’s hope you do before the rest of the week ends,” she said. “Again.”

His muscles were protesting but Jun assumed his stance once more, his determination the only thing he was holding on to.

--

When they moved to the sabers, Kiko became more relentless with her attacks but more careful with landing her blows. She’d stop at a hair’s breadth from making contact to avoid any actual injury, but give Jun this look that meant he had to try harder and do better.

What Keiko and Kiko had in common was that their favorite word in front of Jun was “Again.”

Jun dropped his weapon.

“Again.”

Jun was disarmed and sent to the ground.

“Again.”

The sun was at its peak by the time Kiko allowed a break. Jun let himself lay on the hard ground, the blades of grass tickling the exposed patches of his sweaty skin. He was still trying to catch his breath after doing his best in fending off a flurry of swift and lethal attacks.

Kiko took a long sip from her water jug before she asked, “What’s it like? Being in your enemy’s home planet and actually blending in?”

“Tough,” Jun said, gesturing to his state. She cracked a smile at that. “Every night I go to Okada and ask for salves for my aching back.” He wasn’t looking forward to tonight; he was anticipating he’d need twice as much as he’d had the night before.

“You’re old,” she teased.

“Not that old,” Jun countered. “But yes, older than you. How old were you when you became part of this?”

She tilted her head, as if thinking whether or not she had to give an answer. Then she said in reply, “He is thirty-five now, and he was twenty-four when this whole thing started. I was there since the beginning.”

Kiko had come of age with an impending war ever present in her mind. Jun wondered what that must be like; Kiko had to be fifteen or sixteen at the time Sho was twenty-four. When Jun had been fifteen, he’d been receiving language training. He’d been learning how to spin words while she’d been training with a sword.

“You’re wondering why I fight for him,” Kiko said. “That’s what you always wonder.”

“You?” Jun echoed.

“Men, I mean. They always ask that once they see me fight. Is that what you want to know?”

“No,” Jun said honestly. “I was wondering if you’ve ever seen a meteor storm in a cloudless sky.”

She appeared surprised. “What?”

Jun simply nodded. “My planet had an abundance of that, when we didn’t have any solar flares, that is. I used to run outside and watch them. They look like hail, only that they glow since they’re on fire. It’s like the heavens decided to light itself up on a whim. It lasts for seconds, sometimes minutes. The longest I’ve seen lasted for fifteen minutes.”

“We don’t get meteor storms here,” Kiko told him. “Only thunderstorms.”

“My planet believed in this legend, that the meteor storms were caused by the forgotten gods of old. Remnants of their wrath and drops of their golden blood.”

She smiled. “Golden blood?”

“That’s why it’s a legend,” Jun said. “It’s not supposed to make sense.”

“And do you believe in that?”

“When I was fifteen, yes, I still did,” Jun said. “We’ve had very different childhoods.” He caught the shift in her expression. “Mine was spent lazing around leisurely. You’ve been fighting for almost half your life, all because my planet was a constant threat to yours. You must hate me because of that.”

“I will admit that when I heard there was a Saiphan in the camp, I wanted to find him,” Kiko said. “More so when I heard that he insulted His Highness.”

“Here I am,” Jun said. “What were you planning to do to me had you found me?”

“Ask questions and punch you when I don’t like your answers. Maybe.” Kiko smiled. “But you’re not that Saiphan anymore, are you?”

Jun wanted to say that he was still sorely tempted to say something rude to Sho whenever he saw the man, but the urge wasn’t as strong as before, and he supposed that was change, no matter how small.

“Perhaps.”

“Why did you save him that day?”

Jun gave her the same reason he’d given Ninomiya. “Would you let someone die if something could be done about it?”

“Depends on my relationship with that person,” Kiko said. “I spare whoever needs to be spared, those who are deserving of it. Or when asked to do so by someone I trust. You hated him. You still don’t like him very much, I can tell.”

“He’s more tolerable than he has been a few months ago.” Jun had been spending his nights in Sho’s dome, and once Sho had managed to get over his apprehension for Jun, things had become civil between them. He’d read a book from Sho’s small collection before heading off to bed, and Sho wouldn’t remark on it and settle for giving Jun a calculated look.

It was, Jun thought, better than Sho being completely on guard around him. The man had been so stiff, so practiced before. Lately, Jun had been seeing him slouch in his seat in his study or stifle a yawn with the back of his hand.

Jun was yet to see him sleep. If Sho was doing it, he was also making sure that he’d retire later than Jun and wake ahead of Jun.

“Tolerable,” Kiko repeated, and she laughed. “I’ve seen him annoy more than half of his mother’s court with a single comment; he has a talent for such things. I admire it. I’m not good with words.”

“Do you think he’ll make a great emperor?” Jun asked.

“I think he has what it takes to be an emperor worth remembering,” Kiko said. “As for great, I don’t know yet. I think he needs a formidable ally for that to happen. And the good thing is, I think he knows that as well.”

“Knows? Has he established an alliance with someone he can trust?” Jun asked. He never heard of this, and that was nothing new. But Kiko sounded pretty certain, and he’d never understand how the people here could tell what Sho was thinking. None of it made sense to him.

She looked amused, and Jun caught her line of sight landing on his badge. “I believe he has.” She stood and offered Jun her hand. “Another bout.”

Jun allowed her to help him up. “Does that mean you trust me?”

“I trust his judgment,” Kiko said. “After all, he overlooked my father’s crimes to give me a chance.”

But he can’t do that once he learns of who I truly am, Jun thought. The reality of it was suddenly too much to think about.

He didn’t say anything more, and neither did Kiko.

--

Kiko had the tip of her saber pointed at Jun’s throat when she asked, “Why do you hold your weapon like that?”

“Like what?” Jun managed to choke out, and she stepped back to give him space to catch his breath. They’d been at it for hours, and unlike him, Kiko showed no signs of fatigue. If anything, the longer they went on, the stronger her hits became.

“Like you’re accustomed to a duel,” Kiko said. “Did Saiph have a lot of tournaments?”

“When the occasion called for it,” Jun said. He grew up watching their bravest and most valiant fighting in games that lasted for a week. An exceptionally skilled warrior could ask for the honor of dueling with royalty and be hailed a champion if he was victorious.

Jun had been challenged when he’d been named Crown Prince, and those who managed to defeat him in the ring became part of his personal guard.

When he remembered what became of them, there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth.

“There are no tournaments here,” Kiko said. “Nothing that would promote sportsmanship, I mean. If we fought against our own, it was to earn a place in the service.”

“Does he fight?” Jun asked.

Kiko’s head tilted to the side, her eyes studying him. “His Highness? I never saw him fight.”

Jun thought that Sho’s built didn’t have the telltale signs of an experienced fighter. What he could remember from the events in Sheratan were that Sho had fought out of desperation.

“Who knows?” Kiko said with a shrug.

“You would know,” Jun said. “You’ve been with him for so long.”

“Ah, but his greatest weapon is his mind,” Kiko said. There was no room for disagreement there. “With a few words, he can undo a debate lasting for hours. He can have a man feel punished just by speaking to him.”

“I’m aware,” Jun said. He’d engaged in a couple of verbal spats with Sho. He still recalled the humiliation. “He doesn’t make himself very likeable, does he?”

Kiko laughed, her head tossed back. “Not for you, he doesn’t. It depends to whom he’s speaking with.”

Jun’s eyes narrowed at that comment, at the hidden implication behind her words. Everyone who was in Sho’s service had underlying meanings when they spoke. His stay here only made him more attuned to them.

“You think he can play nice when necessary,” Jun said. It was unthinkable. Sho and nice were two things that didn’t blend very well.

“I’ve seen him do it. He’s quite adept at it,” Kiko said. “I suppose you’ll find out when the time comes. But consider this as your warning. Seeing it for the first time certainly leaves an impression.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jun said, swinging his saber and assuming his stance. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kiko lunged, and Jun met her strikes with the same amount of force, trying not to pay any mind to the ache his muscles were beginning to feel.

--

By the end of the week, he had to visit Okada for salves and patches by the time Kiko had granted him leave. Okada kept shaking his head as he applied the medicated patches on parts of Jun’s back, but when Jun waited for him to say a word, he didn’t. He simply handed a jar of salve to Jun and shooed him away by waving his hands.

This time, when Jun entered Sho’s dome, Sho wasn’t behind his desk. The desk still had the clutter it had yesterday night, but no pads were powered on and all holograms were switched off.

Jun’s hand immediately flew to his holster, and he pulled out his phaser. Finding the dome silent was certainly strange, and he crept up as quietly as he could and began searching the different rooms, his phaser set to stun and ready.

He lowered his weapon when he found Sho in bed, asleep for what seemed to be a few hours. He slept on top of the blankets, like he’d simply given in for a short nap that got prolonged because he had underestimated his exhaustion. Like this, he looked peaceful, nothing like the annoying emperor-to-be who always needed to have the last word.

Jun tucked his phaser back in its holster and moved as quietly as he could, setting his sleeping bag and preparing for the night.

Then he heard a shuffle, and he looked up to find Sho’s eyes on him.

“You don’t sleep, huh,” Jun said with a dash of amusement. He couldn’t help it.

Sho sat up, running a hand through his hair. He blinked blearily, attempting to focus. If Jun could, he’d record a holo of this moment. He’d never see something like this again.

“Your scent woke me up,” Sho said. “How many patches did you ask Okada-kun to put on your body?”

Jun decided right then that he liked Sho more when the man was sleeping. “Some.”

“Can you even stand? Your job is to be my bodyguard tomorrow. If you’re going to be a walking bruise on our way to Denebia, I’d rather not take you with me.”

“Do you want a demonstration?” Jun didn’t suffer through all the aches just to have his abilities and achievements belittled. He’d done it. He’d gotten Keiko and Kiko’s approval, and Keiko had begrudgingly given her yes when Jun had reported to her today, asking if she’d allow him to leave with the future emperor.

Sho was apparently awake enough to give him an eyebrow quirk. “No need. You seem confident enough, and Keiko-chan told me she gave you her permission.” Sho stood and straightened his clothes. “Lights at fifty percent.”

Jun had to blink at the sudden brightness. When he could look at Sho once more, he had his tongue against his cheek at the sight of Sho’s puffy face. The man wasn’t the most attractive upon waking up, and Jun was enjoying at the opportunity to look at him in such a state.

“I already had the ship we’re going to use restocked and refueled. The navigation system was reinstalled for optimum performance. Ninomiya personally saw to the matters, supervised by Kazama.” Sho’s eyes narrowed at him. “Something funny?”

“Nothing at all,” Jun denied. “Are we using the same ship as before?”

“And be fired upon the moment we enter their border?” Sho sneered. “No. We’re using one of mine. Can you fly a Hamali ship?”

“Your people built your ships following the diagnostics of ours; of course I can,” Jun said.

“You’re as charming as ever,” Sho said. “We leave at dawn. Get some sleep.”

“And you?” Jun asked, watching as Sho moved to leave.

“There are transmissions I must listen and reply to,” Sho told him.

“You can reply to those while we’re on our way to Denebia. It’s a three-day trip.” Jun gave him a long look and said, “You should sleep. You look like you need it more than I do.”

“I can sleep on the trip,” Sho said, stubborn as ever.

Jun let out a breath before he opened his mouth once more. “You can’t expect me to fly that ship by myself. What, I’ll just put it on autopilot as I rest like a normal human being while you do the same? Excellent plan. As if there’s nothing that can harm us in space.”

Sho faced him, head inclined to the side as he allowed a small smile creep up to his face. The longer the silence stretched, the more unsettled Jun felt. Whatever Sho was about to say would surely annoy him.

“I find myself regretting things lately,” Sho said.

“Because you gave me this badge?”

“No,” Sho said pleasantly. Jun didn’t let it fool him. “I regret that I removed the gag. You don’t need your mouth to fight.”

Jun could still recall how unpleasant he’d found the feeling of having the gag on. “I’m not letting you put that on me again.”

“I know. Rather unfortunate, really. You looked better with it on. Back then, your eyes told me everything I had to know.”

Jun squared his jaw before he asked, “And what did you gather?” His heart was hammering. What if? he thought.

“That if it were possible, you’d jump at the opportunity of having our roles reversed. Tell me I’m wrong,” Sho said.

He wasn’t. Jun had allowed himself to imagine such things many times. What if Sho had been exiled to Saiph instead? It would be different. He’d be treated like a prisoner, perhaps humiliated often. His father had found Sho to be distasteful.

But they would still have met, been introduced properly to one another with their titles. Sho would never be Jun’s personal bodyguard, but he’d still be a person of interest. A royal hostage.

“Were you high-ranking in your military?” Sho asked. “I need an explanation for your propensity for insubordination and the combat skills that you possess. Not everyone gets Keiko’s approval.”

Jun supposed that was the closest thing to a compliment he’d get about his recent accomplishments. “I trained under the best.”

“But your best is obviously not enough to beat Keiko in single combat,” Sho said. “Were you disheartened by that?”

Jun shrugged. “Why would I be? She’s incredibly skilled. If anything, I’m honored to have fought with her and had lasted in that ring for as long as I have. You’re lucky to have her around; she’ll kill hundreds before they can even lay eyes on you.”

“And hypothetically speaking, how many can you kill if she can slay a hundred?”

Jun thought about it. “Fifty. Probably.”

“Then let’s hope the Denebian queen doesn’t have a hundred women for her royal guard, or else I’ll be heading straight to my death,” Sho said with a wry smile.

It took Jun a couple of seconds, but after a few seconds of observing Sho, he concluded, “You’re nervous.”

Sho turned his head sharply, but Jun didn’t allow himself to be intimidated by his glare. It was a defense mechanism.

“You are,” Jun said. “You’re starting to think this is a bad idea, given the nature of Denebians.”

“Their men are kept from positions of power, merely used as soldiers,” Sho said. Jun knew that; he’d flown here in a ship that had two Denebian men who were defectors. “It’s a wise decision, considering how we men are.”

“But you don’t know how the queen will accept you since you’re a man of an almost similar status as her,” Jun concluded. Sho didn’t utter a word of agreement, but he didn’t have to. “You don’t even know what made her agree to granting you audience, and a part of you thinks it’s a trap.”

This was a gamble, and the odds weren’t looking good so far. He could see how Sho had his features schooled to impassiveness.

Jun allowed the silence to linger before he spoke softly, meaning every word. “If it comes to that, it comes to that.” He saw Sho lift his head and look at him, and he merely nodded. “I’m not letting you go there alone.”

Sho let out a small laugh, but he didn’t seem amused. “You can’t fight a hundred soldiers. You said so yourself.”

“No, I cannot,” Jun agreed. “But at the very least, I can shoot some of them to open up a path for you, should it come to that. I meant what I said back then.”

Sho exhaled, the steep incline of his shoulders slumping further. “You’ve seen me order the men in my service, men who are sworn to me. But you are not one of them so I won’t order you. If you’d rather stay with the ship when we get there—”

“I’m coming with you,” Jun said, talking over him. “I’m not letting you do everything on your own.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re difficult to get rid of?” Sho asked, but it came out light, nothing like a barb.

Rina had, more than once. Back when Jun had stayed close to her because he’d been too shy to make new friends on his own. “Adding that to your list of regrets? That you allowed me to help you?”

“No,” Sho said. “That part, I don’t regret one bit. Lights at five percent.”

The room dimmed, and Jun could only stare as Sho climbed onto his bed and settled under the covers. He never thought he’d have the ability to make Sho do anything.

“You’re sleeping,” Jun said, still in disbelief.

“Such a groundbreaking observation, Matsumoto. Would you rather have us chat till morning?” Sho asked.

“No,” Jun said honestly. “If you offer, I will decline.”

“Then I’m not offering. If you have plans to read before bed, you may use my study,” Sho said, giving Jun his back.

Jun was exhausted enough. “No, I’m sleeping.” He rearranged his sleeping bag where he’d have an unobstructed view of Sho’s bed in case of an emergency. “Good night.”

It took a moment, but he heard a muffled “Good night,” that made him smile as he closed his eyes.

--

Jun prepared the ship for take off as Sho gave last-minute orders to Ohno, Aiba, and Keiko—the only ones who were privy to the trip. To everyone else, Sho was going to personally oversee the delay in the delivery of fuel cells, accompanied by his bodyguard, the Saiphan.

When he heard the hatch being sealed, he started flipping switches. Sho’s ship was designed to have a passenger side in the cockpit, and Jun didn’t bother to ask for Sho’s permission and took the pilot’s chair for himself. If Sho would be irritated by his audacity, it wouldn’t be the first time.

He heard footsteps coming up from behind him and didn’t look, instead inputting calculations in the navigation console. He wasn’t as gifted as Ninomiya, but Jun managed to lessen the travel time from three days to two days and eighteen hours. It was progress, considering the predicted solar flares he had to avoid on the way there.

“Her Majesty has given me permission to land my ship in the royal spacedock,” Sho said. “I’ve been told it’s an honor.”

“We’re not being hailed and escorted?” Jun asked. Diplomatic missions had protocols, he recalled.

Sho was leaning against the console now, arms crossed over his chest. He’d dressed down a bit, but his clothes still signified that he was royalty. The material was vastly different from the ones Jun was wearing.

“I’d rather not have her escort us,” Sho said. “I don’t believe that we’ll be welcomed as guests.”

Which was wise on Sho’s part, Jun would admit. “All right. As soon as they let us in, I’ll readjust the route so we’ll be in the spacedock.” He tilted his chin towards the seat beside his. “Buckle up.”

Sho did, not speaking even after they went past the atmosphere. Beyond the glass windows, Hamal was a ball of gray and white interspersed with the occasional dark green. Briefly, Jun remembered that its seas weren’t blue like Saiph’s.

The jump to hyperspace gave Jun a thrill he hadn’t felt in a while. Unlike the last time he’d been on a ship, he wasn’t visiting the capital. He was leaving this planet. Months ago, he’d never thought it possible. Now he was leaving Hamal behind with Hamal’s future emperor by his side.

To the uninformed, it would appear that Jun was abducting the heir. Not too different from his great-great grandfather.

“We could’ve simply made the jump straight to Denebia,” Jun said as soon as the ship was on autopilot.

“Yes, but I’d rather we arrive on the appointed time and not too early,” Sho said.

Jun studied Sho’s face and after a few beats, said, “Are we meeting someone?”

“You’re getting good at that,” Sho said, a scowl forming on his face.

Jun frowned. “At what?”

“At saying the right things. It’s very irritating,” Sho said. Then he sighed. “Yes, we are. Keiko’s husband. He’s been watching Denebia for the past two months, and I want to have his full report before we enter the territory.”

“Transmissions exist,” Jun said.

“And risk having it detected by the Denebian government despite the message being spoken in my tongue? Are all things so simple to you?”

“Coded transmissions, I mean,” Jun said, trying to summon all the patience he had left. “Kitagawa-san told me her husband was a former spy; surely he would know of such things. Or an encrypted transmission perhaps.”

“There’s no time for any of that,” Sho said. “I’ve worked so hard to get this far, to be granted an audience. Did you think I’ll take the risk when a single transmission can end everything? That’s not a gamble I’m willing to make.”

Jun stared at the flicker of emotion on Sho’s face, at the glimpse of his true feelings behind the snarky comments and the sarcastic barbs.

“I didn’t know the extent of your hard work,” Jun said. “I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Sho stared at him. Then: “You’re fighting in a war you know nothing about.”

“Unless you tell me,” Jun said.

“In time,” Sho said, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing. “The less you know, the better.”

“Because you still see me as your enemy?” Jun asked, watching him walk away.

“Because my mind is my own,” Sho told him. “For now, you know enough, and that’s how I want it. When we get there, refrain from asking too many questions. If you have concerns, I’ll hear them in private. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Jun said through his teeth.

“Good. I had the replicator reprogrammed to at least fashion us a decent meal. Feel free to use it if you must,” Sho said, and Jun finally heard him depart.

Alone, Jun leaned back against his seat. He thought of his great-great grandfather, wondering what he’d seen in the then-future Hamali empress that he’d convinced her to run away with him. If all Hamali royalty were like Sho and Jun was given no other choice, Jun would rather remain a bachelor for life than marry one into his family.

He synced his communicator with that of the ship’s and left the cockpit to familiarize himself with the ship.

--

Sho’s ship, Otonoha, only had one room with a bed, so Jun claimed the pilot’s chair for himself. It had been a full day with Sho making use of the mess hall as his workspace, replying to transmissions and other missives without acknowledging Jun’s presence unless he saw fit to ask about a status update.

Jun let him be. When Sho wasn’t looking to start a fight, he was easier to deal with. Jun had this impression that since the attempted assassination, Sho had been on his guard. Not that Jun would be able to tell exactly—he’d never been this close to Sho before.

He looked out and saw nothing but stars. They’d made the jump safely and landed halfway to Denebia, and the ship was now cloaked and flying steadily to where they’d make contact with Keiko’s husband. Jun hadn’t asked for the details regarding the rendezvous. He knew he’d just be rebuffed.

With nothing to entertain himself with, he resolved to watch the stars. He hadn’t seen them for months, which, had he still been a prince, would have been unthinkable. Crown Prince Jun was known for his leisure trips across the galaxy. He’d seen every corner of the Saiphan territory, had visited once or twice the pleasure districts in different colonies under their protection. He’d been his father’s envoy at times, and he’d taken the opportunity to unwind when he could.

He hadn’t minded the stars back then. They’d been an ordinary sight to him.

But now, seeing them left him with something akin to longing. He missed having adventures of his own, having that kind of freedom to exercise. His life wasn’t his own now; it was tied to whatever was about to happen. It was tied with Sho’s, whether he liked it or not.

A part of Jun hoped that if he did manage to survive whatever was coming, Sho would reward his service with what he wanted most. If Sho would set him free, he’d find a way to return to Saiph, stop the war from happening now that he’d seen a portion of how it was on the losing side. Hamal wouldn’t survive a war against his planet. Though Jun had been mostly hated by the Hamali he’d encountered (future emperor included), they didn’t deserve to suffer.

“Your planet is fifty-seven light years away from mine,” Sho said from the doorway.

“A six-hour hyperspace jump in a Saiphan ship,” Jun said. He’d heard Sho arrive; his boots made this distinct noise against the flooring because of the expensive material they were made from. “What about it?”

“When the war between Saiph and Hamal happens—”

“It won’t,” Jun said. Not if he could help it, he thought.

Sho didn’t appear to hear him. He stood by the console now, eyes focused on the stars in front of them. “—and my planet is destroyed, it’ll take fifty-seven years for the star that stood for Hamal that’s seen in your planet to disappear. Long enough for the generations to have survived the war to pass away. And just like that, we will be forgotten.”

“No,” Jun said. “I won’t let that happen.”

“When will you realize that you’re not exactly in a position to influence the tide of things?” Sho asked, turning to him. “It amazes me every time: seeing you talk as if you can inspire change. You obviously possess the talent for it. Had I not known better, I would have believed you.”

“You’re right, I can’t do anything on my own,” Jun said. For a moment, Sho appeared triumphant. “But that’s why I’m here, helping out wherever I can. You might be loathe to admit it, but you already enlisted my help the moment you gave me this badge.”

“I enlisted your cooperation, not your help,” Sho said.

“But here I am anyway,” Jun said. “Deal with it.”

“Yes, it appears I have no choice,” Sho said. He leaned against the console and studied Jun, and Jun permitted the scrutiny despite being mildly unsettled by it. “How old are you?”

“What?” Of all things, Jun hadn’t been expecting that question.

“Your age,” Sho said. He sounded uncharacteristically patient for once.

“Thirty-four,” Jun answered. “What about it?”

“So you’ve seen the late Crown Prince of Saiph grow,” Sho said. Jun took care to steady his breathing; this was a dangerous conversation. “He would have been the same age as you if he wasn’t murdered. In a few months, he would have been king.”

“Your mother has refused most of the emissaries from the Saiphan king,” Jun said. “Your mother and the Denebian queen took turns in doing that.”

“I’ve met the Saiphan king once. It was the only time my mother granted him audience,” Sho said. Jun set his jaw; he would have to will himself not to react if Sho said something he didn’t like. His father was dead and they were talking about a memory, but it was still a dear memory for Jun. “He was quick to anger. Temperamental, I suppose.”

“He didn’t like you,” Jun found himself saying. He caught Sho smiling at that. “He—his impressions on the Hamali are known planet-wide.”

“I see,” Sho said. “I wasn’t seeking out his favor. I wonder if his son would have been different with negotiations. Many say the late prince would have been the kind of king that his father was.”

Jun allowed himself to imagine an alternate scenario where he’d be visiting the Hamali court to try to broker a peace treaty to end centuries of animosity. Would he find Sho as distasteful as his father had? Had they met as a king and an emperor—as equals—would they still try to prevent a war from happening?

Would Crown Prince Jun still save Emperor Apparent Sho’s life if he could?

“I wouldn’t know,” Jun said quietly. It was pointless to dwell on things that’d never happen. He’d never be king. “But I think...I want to believe that the late prince wouldn’t have been his father’s kind of king.”

He saw a subtle shift in Sho’s expression and added, “He wouldn’t take your lands or enslave your people. He would never do such a thing.”

“And his sister would?” Sho asked after a moment.

Jun wanted to believe otherwise, but he wouldn’t be here now if that were true. “Perhaps,” he said anyway. The Rina he thought he knew wouldn’t. The Rina now was an entirely different matter.

“Would anything still her hand?” Sho asked.

“Territory,” Jun said. “And ore. Whatever you have to give.”

“Then there’s nothing that will,” Sho concluded, nodding to himself.

“You knew all of this,” Jun said. “This is why we’re going to Denebia in the first place. You knew that if Saiph offers parley, it’ll be tantamount to a surrender on your part. They won’t destroy you outright, but they will invade regardless.”

“As you witnessed yourself, I am short on hands,” Sho said. “Have a care not to speak of any of this in front of Her Majesty.”

“I think she will be able to deduce it on her own,” Jun said. “Aside from asking for an army to aid you in the wars to come, will she really not think of anything else?”

“There’s another possibility,” Sho said.

He looked at Jun and waited, and when it clicked, Jun shook his head. “No.”

“No as in you don’t think it’s possible with me?”

“No as in it won’t work; she will know that you have no intentions of offering a marriage prospect to cement a permanent alliance,” Jun said. “Despite the possibility of it, you would never.”

Sho was perhaps the biggest snob he’d met in the universe. To marry someone like him would be torture everyday.

“What stories did you hear from my men?” Sho asked with a slight frown. “Tell me at once.”

“That you turned down all your suitors including all offers of marriage,” Jun said. “You won’t start accepting one now; you’re a fool if you think Her Majesty would believe that.”

“That’s everything you’ve heard about me?” Sho had an eyebrow quirked now. “That’s not all of it. I know my men. I know what they’ll likely say. Tell me everything.”

Jun would rather not. But an order was an order, and Sho was pointedly eyeing the badge pinned on Jun’s chest. “That you never had any known romantic pursuits or interests. This reputation has undoubtedly reached Her Majesty; it’s protocol that royalty had a background check on all the people requesting an audience, and you’re not an exception to that. She won’t buy it, if you’re planning to fool her with that offer.”

“And who said I’d be offering myself?” Sho smiled. “Trust you to be so straightforward with your thinking. You’re right; I have a reputation. Which is why I’m not offering myself.”

“Your siblings aren’t of age yet, at least not according to your planet’s traditions,” Jun said. Thirty was the coming of age in Hamal, ten years later than Saiph’s. The Hamali believed that the twenties was too young to govern a planet properly. “You can’t offer them up.”

“Cousins exist,” Sho said. “It’s not a very strong offer, I know. But it should be enough to give me a few men, if I can make Her Majesty agree to it.”

“And if she asks for you instead?” Jun asked. “If she says she’ll make you emperor if you promise to marry into her family, what will you do?”

“Decline,” Sho said immediately.

“You’re not in the position to do that; you need her army,” Jun pointed out.

“I will be agreeable to providing an heir to continue the bloodline, though,” Sho said. “That is what Denebia is after, anyway. Royal blood to perpetuate their bloodline. They need strong, capable women as heirs possessing the rightful claim. I can provide that should it be necessary.”

Jun let out a breath. Just having this conversation alone was exhausting. “So that’s your offer in exchange for Denebia’s aid?”

“Do you think it’s not enough?”

Jun blinked; was Sho asking for his opinion? Truly? “What?”

“Do not ask me to repeat that,” Sho said, his voice having an edge to it.

“It’s not enough,” Jun said. “She might ask for something more. You have to be prepared to give it, whatever it is. You need her. You know this. Why did you even ask?”

“Reassurance,” Sho said quietly, softly that Jun almost didn’t hear it. “That’s strange, isn’t it? I never thought I’d need you for anything.”

Jun never imagined there’d come a time that he’d be his enemy’s support, that Sho would ask for his opinion despite Sho’s utter dislike for him. But Jun supposed there were sacrifices kings-to-be had to make.

Saying anything now, though, would ruin the moment. He kept silent and stared out into the stars. Some of them might be long dead, millions of light years away. And he’d never know which was which.

“When I’m emperor, I’ll look back on this day,” Sho said when the silence had already lingered. He gave Jun his back and looked out, eyes appearing distant. “And I’ll remember it as the first time you’ve proven it to me.”

“Proven what?” Jun asked.

The stars were reflected in Sho’s eyes.

“That I do have someone like you,” Sho said.

--

Keiko’s husband was a man named Daigo. The rendezvous was at an uninhabited asteroid, and Otonoha has been in orbit along with the reconnaissance ship as Daigo beamed inside theirs. He stood taller than Jun but possessed a slightly smaller built. He was pale and had long hair that nearly touched his shoulders, and he bowed in reverence at Sho’s presence. When he straightened up at Sho’s command, his eyes narrowed at the sight of Jun.

“Keiko did warn me that you got the most unexpected person as your personal bodyguard,” Daigo said. “But she never told me anything about a Saiphan.”

“Yes, I suppose she thought that’d be amusing,” Sho said. “Report.”

Daigo gave Jun a long look. “With all due respect, Highness—”

“Do you want him to leave?” Sho asked. “I’m afraid he can’t. You had no problems delivering important news in front of Nagase-kun.”

“That was Nagase-san,” Daigo said. Sho regarded him, and he gave Jun another pointed look.

Making people uncomfortable was Sho’s specialty, but Jun wanted no part in it. “I could—”

“He is not leaving,” Sho said coolly to Daigo.

Daigo nodded after a moment. “Very well.” He kept his eyes on Sho as he said, “The Denebian queen has constantly turned down all requests for an audience from the Saiphan queen. I’ve seen some Saiphan ships on patrol, but they never ventured close enough to the planet to be deemed hostile. They kept their distance, never crossing the boundaries of the territory.”

“Do you believe that they did?” Sho asked.

“They can’t cross the border. Denebia has a planet-wide defense system; they can’t pass through the shields without the gates opening for them. To date, no Saiphan has stepped foot in Denebia,” Daigo said.

“Are they out there?” Sho asked. “The moment my ship is received, do you think they’ll see it happen?”

“It’s very likely,” Daigo said. “But they will not shoot. If they shoot at your ship, Denebia will treat it as an act of war since you’ll be in their territory. You have that guarantee, at least, that Otonoha will be able to land safely.”

“They can’t know you’re here,” Jun said. He meant his people.

Daigo gave him a look of confusion, but Jun had his eyes on Sho.

Sho looked deep in thought, chin resting on his knuckles.

“If they know you’re here, they’ll know what you’re up to,” Jun said. “If they don’t shoot us upon our arrival, they might at our departure.”

Sho lifted his gaze, and Jun saw him exchange a meaningful look with Daigo.

“If that is your will, Highness,” Daigo said without hesitation.

“No,” Jun said. He turned to Sho, who didn’t look at him. “You can’t send him as a decoy.” He knew Rina’s men. They’d shoot him once they discover he wasn’t the Emperor Apparent.

“This doesn’t concern you, Saiphan,” Daigo said. “It’s your people we’re fighting against. If my future emperor asks this of me, who am I to deny my service? I made my pledge.”

Jun was about to open his mouth, but he heard Sho say, “Daigo-kun. If you’ll excuse me and my bodyguard for a moment. I’ll inform you of my decision after this. In the meantime, please help yourself with whatever my replicator can fashion for you.”

Daigo looked reluctant, but left them after a curt bow and a distrustful look cast in Jun’s way, his footsteps echoing against the flooring. Soon, they heard the familiar whir of a replicator, and Sho faced him.

“I said I’d hear your concerns in private,” Sho said.

“You can’t send him to his death,” Jun said. “I’m not letting you.”

Sho’s head inclined to the side. “You’re not letting me.”

Jun paid no attention to the tone of Sho’s voice. “You’ve been trying to prevent a war from happening because you care for your people and you don’t want to see them suffer. Daigo-san is one of your people. If you become emperor someday, isn’t it part of your oath to be the protector of the Hamali?”

“He is sworn to me. He said it himself: he made his pledge,” Sho said.

“So you’ll sacrifice him for the greater good?” Jun was getting angry now. Daigo’s behavior towards Jun was caused by his loyalty to Sho. Loyalty like that shouldn’t be rewarded with a suicide mission.

“There are sacrifices I must make in order to achieve my goals,” Sho said.

“These are lives!” Jun cried. “You might think you’re just gambling with whatever you’ve got, but for anyone who follows you, they gamble with their lives! Would you really want them killed just so you can save your planet?! Will you be that kind of an emperor, someone who only cares for the welfare of the majority? These aren’t your pawns; they’re your people.”

Sho shut his eyes, and Jun felt his breathing go heavier. He hadn’t been angry in so long—he could almost feel his blood pumping.

“Can you live with yourself if you do such a thing right now? If you can, look me in the eye and say it,” Jun said.

“Enough,” Sho said softly, eyes fluttering open.

“No, this is not settled. You’re not sending him out there! What will Keiko-san think of you once she finds out?!”

“Enough, I said.” Sho met his eyes. “Why do you always remind me of my morality? I’m trying to cement my future and my planet’s, and you tell me that I can’t.”

“Not like this,” Jun said. “There are other ways to rule. But don’t rule using fear. It’s a precarious foundation. Do you want your people to be terrified of you once you ascend the throne? Because they know you won’t hesitate to cut off a limb if you have to?”

Sho sighed. “Why do you always try to prevent me from doing the wrong thing?” Sho asked, but it seemed that he was asking himself. “You’re very irritating.”

“Irritating because I’m making sense?” Jun asked. “One of us has to.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose before facing him once more. “Fine. What would you do if you were in my position?”

“My people know how your ship looks like,” Jun said. “If I were you, I’d trade my ship with Daigo-san’s. Send him back to Hamal, to the outskirts. He’s done here, anyway. He can make the jump to hyperspace from here. We take his ship and go to Denebia as planned.”

“And if Her Majesty looks for my ship? I said I’d arrive in Otonoha.”

“Tell her you didn’t take the risk since Saiphans were closely watching her planet. Send her a transmission after this. Explain everything, inform her beforehand. If she sees fit to still bestow punishment for the change in the arrangement, so be it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Sho said. “We don’t know what she might ask for in case we end up inconveniencing her.”

“But whatever it is, it’s not as bad as sending one of your best men as a decoy so you can enter and exit a planet unharmed.” Jun gave Sho this determined look. “We’ll manage somehow. Send Daigo-san home.”

Sho took a deep breath, and out of the corner of his mouth, said, “Call him back.”

Jun did. He remained by the doors as Daigo entered once more, and from the looks on his face, he seemed to have resigned himself to the worst.

“Daigo-kun,” Sho said.

“Your Highness.”

“You’re going home,” Sho said, and Jun was unable to squash the happiness he felt momentarily. Sho explained the plan to Daigo, who still stared at Sho like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Do not get a scratch on my ship,” Sho said, and Jun caught a flicker of a smile on his face. “Are we clear on this?”

“Yes, Highness,” Daigo said in reply, still looking stunned. “I—”

“You’ve been away for nearly half a year,” Sho said. “Keiko-chan undoubtedly misses you.”

“Yes, it’s been a while. I—thank you.” Daigo lowered his head in a formal bow, so low that he looked bent in half. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Thank him,” Sho said, and he pointed to Jun. Jun wasn’t expecting to be acknowledged, and now he shared Daigo’s surprise. “He asked me to send you home.”

Daigo gave a little bow in gratitude, his eyes no longer meeting Jun’s. “Forgive me for my behavior earlier.”

“There was no offense,” Jun said.

When Daigo turned to Sho, he bowed once more. “With your permission, I will begin preparations.”

Sho nodded. “You’re dismissed. I’ll see you in the hatch once everything’s ready.”

Daigo left, but not before giving Jun another look of gratitude that Jun acknowledged with a slight incline of his head. As a prince, he’d gotten accustomed to being thanked for the smallest gestures. His whole life, he’d never felt truly thanked for something until now.

He was alone with Sho once more, and he said, “He was surprised.”

“I’m not usually this kind,” Sho admitted. “I’m fair, but only kind on certain occasions.”

“Like?”

“Like when my enemy starts speaking like my conscience has come to life and seeks to bother me unless I listen to him.”

Sho could’ve simply said Jun made him do something that was unlike him, but nothing was easy with Sho.

“You did the right thing,” Jun told him.

“Endangering myself for my people? Yes, I suppose I did,” Sho said.

“Not that. You chose to spare a life when given the chance. It was the right thing to do.”

Sho stared at him, and when Sho continued to not say anything, Jun grew wary.

“What?” he asked cautiously.

“Nothing,” Sho said, turning away. “Go help Daigo-kun with the preparations. The sooner we leave this rock, the better.”

--

Daigo’s reconnaissance ship was considerably smaller and of an older model, but she was nothing Jun couldn’t handle. They parted ways with little fanfare, and Sho made Jun wait for Otonoha to jump to hyperspace before they did the same.

In minutes, they’d be by Denebia’s gates. Sho had already sent his transmission to Her Majesty, and if he’d received a reply, Jun wasn’t informed of it.

“I have some rules before we get there, and I need you to follow all of them,” Sho said. They were in the cockpit with Jun manning the controls and the joystick. Sho stood by his side, back resting against the console.

Sho would have a field day seeing him so cooperative. “All right,” Jun said.

“Do not speak unless you’re spoken to,” Sho said. “In the event that they proposition you for anything, decline. We don’t want to be in their debt for long. If you can answer a question with five words or fewer, do so. Do not look at Her Majesty in the eye.”

Jun nodded to all of them. “Anything else?”

“Yes. Stay close to my side,” Sho said.

“As your bodyguard, I have to,” Jun said. “And if Her Majesty dismisses me to speak with you in private?”

“Linger by the door,” Sho said. “If I will be murdered, I’ll make sure to make some noise to call your attention.”

Jun gave a curt nod, and he reached from the inside of his boot to pull out a dagger that Keiko had him hide in his clothes. Aside from the phasers, she’d given him this. He held it by the blade, presenting the handle to Sho.

“Just in case,” Jun said.

“Are you anticipating that you might be tardy in your rescue attempt should the occasion call for it?”

“Take it,” he said. “So I can have some peace of mind that you at least have something to defend yourself with if I’m not there.”

Sho took the dagger from him and tucked it inside his boot. “You do realize they might search me for weapons?”

“That’s what your mind is for,” Jun told him. He grabbed the joystick and watched the timer do a countdown till their arrival. “You told me you’re an accomplished orator. Distract them until I can rescue you. Get in the back and buckle up.”

Sho obeyed, and Jun heard the click of the seatbelt fastening just in time for the ship to drop out of hyperspace. What welcomed him was a planet of orange, surrounded by a planet-wide shield that gave it a distinct aura. Jun could catch a sheen every now and then as the shield moved, and he was impressed that a desert planet could be so advanced.

Denebia was one of the planets he’d never been to. All he knew of it was that it had an abundance of sand, its dunes reaching hundreds of feet tall after a sandstorm.

The ship’s communicator pinged with a hailing message, and Jun flipped the switch to respond. The man on the other line spoke in Denebian, and Jun answered his questions to the best of his ability, matching his accent with the native one to appear more confident.

“You do have some uses,” Sho said as soon as they were granted entry. Jun had declared that the Emperor Apparent of Hamal was onboard the reconnaissance ship, and Sho had allowed his voice to be used for identification.

Jun resolved not to comment on that, instead flying the ship steadily as they get dragged in by the planet’s gravity. As soon as they crossed the gates, Jun put the ship on autopilot based on the coordinates they’d been provided with.

Jun shrugged on the jacket to complete his outfit; he wore the clothes that were originally intended for Nagase. He got ready, rechecking his phasers and other weapons, resyncing his communicator just to be sure.

“We’re being hailed,” Jun said, dropping out of autopilot. He could see the entrance of the spaceport, a massive dome that stood out in the midst of sand dunes. Jun allowed himself a quick sweep of their surroundings, and he saw that the spaceport was directly connected to what appeared to be the royal palace. It had the appearance of an old, towering temple that stood atop a mountain of rock that had weathered through the ages.

“Accept it,” Sho said, and he stepped into view as Jun enabled full screen.

Sho bowed respectfully as soon as a woman’s face appeared onscreen. Jun did the same, and he lifted his head once he saw Sho had done so.

“Your Majesty,” Sho greeted respectfully.

“Emperor Apparent,” she greeted in turn. She looked older than both of them, but she had the kind of beauty that grabbed attention, a certain glint in her eyes present. “You didn’t mention about bringing a companion.”

She was staring at Jun, and Jun lowered his gaze in reverence.

“This is my bodyguard, Matsumoto,” Sho said. “Surely you’d allow his presence?”

“I’ve heard rumors that you’ve taken the most unlikely of companions,” she said, paying no mind to Sho’s introduction. “I’ve never allowed any Saiphan in my planet.”

“He’s a member of my household,” Sho said. “I answer for him.”

“He will be the first,” she said after a brief moment of consideration. “You will be escorted to my court. Until then.”

“Until then,” Sho said. “You have my gratitude.”

The transmission ended, and Sho said, “Queen Ryoko has a penchant for intimidating anyone on first meet. You should have seen the first transmission she sent in reply.”

Jun followed Sho to the ship’s rear, and he stood a pace behind as they opened the hatch. “You didn’t tell her you took me along.”

“And risk being denied? I think she knew I had someone with me the moment you answered the first hail. What I don’t understand is why she still let us through,” Sho said. And with a lowered voice: “Be on your guard. You’re the first Saiphan stepping foot in this planet, and because of that, they’re keen to find any fault in your actions.”

“I won’t do anything that will compromise you,” Jun said. “We’re in enough danger as it is.”

“Well said,” Sho told him, straightening his posture as they climbed down the ship, meeting a sentry composed entirely of women.

“I’m General Ishihara,” the one leading the group said. She was shorter than either of them, her beauty undeniable despite the lack of any rouge on her cheeks. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she eyed Jun longer than she did Sho. “On behalf of Her Majesty, I welcome you to Denebia, Emperor Apparent Sho.”

“Her Majesty is gracious,” Sho said, inclining his head in acceptance. Jun imitated him. “We’re honored to be welcomed.”

“This way,” Ishihara told them, leading them out of the spaceport through a tunnel that directly led inside the palace. There was no time to gawk at their surroundings, but Jun noticed that most of the furnishings inside the palace were old. The interior itself indicated how long the halls it was within had stood. “Her Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I am aware,” Sho said, trudging after her. They were flanked on all sides by Ishihara’s soldiers, and they multitasked, beginning to search Jun without asking for permission as they walked.

A look from Sho told him clearly: Do not fight it.

Jun permitted the search begrudgingly, and when one soldier tapped meaningfully on his phasers, he turned his gaze to Sho.

“He’s a bodyguard,” Sho explained with a smile. He looked so deceivingly innocent that Jun had to look the other way lest his features express his distrust.

“Do you think you’ll be attacked here?” Ishihara asked.

“I never said that,” Sho told her. “But as you know, General, being royalty demands many things, most of which are no longer essential to the ordinary citizen. I can promise that he will only shoot when provoked. He wasn’t trained to be trigger-happy.”

Trained. For a moment, Jun was tempted to stun Sho with his phaser.

“It’s your nature that we do not trust,” Ishihara told them.

“Yes, we men are untrustworthy,” Sho agreed. “I propose a compromise then: you won’t relieve my bodyguard of his weapons and I will agree to send him out should Her Majesty ask for it. My life for my safety.”

Ishihara was surprised. Jun wouldn’t deny that he was, too. The deal made no sense.

Are you mad? Jun wanted to ask. But he settled for giving Sho a look and shaking his head once when their eyes met.

Sho ignored him, his soft smile directed at Ishihara, who appeared thoughtful.

“I will bring this up to Her Majesty,” Ishihara said, walking once more. “But for now, let him keep his phasers.”

“You have my gratitude,” Sho told her, and the soldiers stepped back from Jun.

They reached the throne room, and Jun was graced with the sight of a lone throne that was situated at the top of the dais. Queen Ryoko sat with legs crossed, arms on the rests of her golden chair.

Ishihara bowed and introduced Sho before stepping aside, and Sho lowered himself on one knee and gave his respects. Jun did the same, and they didn’t look up even when they heard footsteps. Ishihara was undoubtedly informing the queen about letting Jun keep his weapons.

When Ishihara descended the dais, the queen spoke.

“I’ve been told you don’t play well with others, Emperor Apparent,” she said with amusement, “and yet here you are with someone. Is he for show? To tell me otherwise or to mislead me?”

“To tell you otherwise,” Sho said in formal Denebian. “My reputation precedes me, Your Majesty. Most of the things you’ve heard about me are only half-true.”

“I’ve never seen a Saiphan up close,” she told them. To Jun: “Lift your head.”

Jun did, meeting her eyes. He felt as if she could see through him.

“A lovely face,” she said. She looked at Sho and continued, “I see why you keep him around. With him, you’re quite the sight to behold.”

Then her gaze flitted across the room, to the corner where some ladies of the court were whispering and giggling. “Some of these women haven’t encountered men of high status before. You’d forgive their curiosity.”

“I do not mind it,” Sho said, inclining his head. “I’m honored, in fact. I do know that my bodyguard is quite fetching; there are times people fail to look at me because of him.”

To Jun’s surprise, Ryoko cracked a smile at that. “They told me you can be quite charming if you put your mind to it.”

“Does it appear as if I’m exerting effort?” Sho asked. “I assure you, this comes naturally.”

Jun felt as if he was listening to a stranger talk. This wasn’t Sho. The Sho he knew had a comeback ready for any kind of barb. The Sho he knew spat venom even when not provoked.

Seeing it for the first time certainly leaves an impression, Kiko had said.

Jun wondered if it was his mere presence that had caused Sho to say unkind words to him in the past. Perhaps. Because the Sho he was witnessing now was effortlessly working his way into charming everyone in Ryoko’s court.

And he was succeeding. Jun could see the looks of adoration, once directed at him now shifting to Sho. The more Sho spoke, the more he seemed to win everyone’s favor. He had all of their attention, and he seemed to know exactly what to do with it.

He’s dangerous, Jun thought. In this desert planet, he’s a sand viper.

“We all know why you came here,” Ryoko told Sho when they appeared to be done with the pleasantries. She had a smile on her face, and Jun knew it was Sho who’d put it there. “You need men for your army.”

“No,” Sho said, earning more whispers from the court. “I need women.”

Ryoko wasn’t expecting that, her eyes narrowing at Sho.

“I’ve been told once that women know better,” Sho continued. Jun knew who could’ve said such a thing to him; he’d heard it from the person himself. “And in the years that passed, I’ve proven that to be true. Yes, I need an army. But not just any army.”

“You want my best and finest,” Ryoko said, waving a hand to the direction where Ishihara and her soldiers stood guard. “In exchange for what?”

“Name your price,” Sho said.

Ryoko regarded him coolly, the pale column of her neck in plain view as she tilted her head in consideration. The glittering diamonds on her ear only added to her regal appearance. “Denebia is not allied with Hamal.”

“When I’m emperor, we will be,” Sho said.

“There is no treaty in existence,” Ryoko said. “And before you say that it can be arranged, Emperor Apparent, there’s still something else I require. Something more permanent.”

“I’ve heard of your search for a suitable successor,” Sho said. “There are candidates, yes, but none of the women you’re considering possess a title befitting the crown in the future.”

“And what do you offer, future emperor?” Ryoko asked, despite obviously knowing.

“An heir when the time comes,” Sho said.

“Even without marriage?” Ryoko had both eyebrows raised now. “You Hamali are people of tradition. Are you doing away with tradition?”

“Tradition would dictate that I remain in my planet and await the war to come without doing anything,” Sho said. “My presence here should be answer enough.”

Ryoko rested her chin on her knuckles, eyes fixed on Sho. “And if you become emperor, what of your heir? Say I accept your offer, you will have no claim to the child. The child will be Denebia’s.”

“Provided the child is a female,” Sho said.

“Of course,” Ryoko said. “If the child is a male, he cannot inherit my throne.”

“Then he will become my heir in that event,” Sho said. “Send the child to Hamal.”

“That will forfeit your terms in the deal,” Ryoko said. “You’re asking me to gamble with my throne.”

“My throne for yours,” Sho said. “See me emperor, and I will see you securing your claim to the Denebian throne.”

“Why should I tie Denebia’s future with your uncertain one? If you lose the civil war, I lose my best soldiers along with a successor.”

“Unless I provide the potential successor now,” Sho said.

That earned him Ryoko’s small smile; Jun could tell Ryoko hadn’t been expecting that.

“Given the technology we have, it’ll be quick to determine if the child will be female,” Sho said. “If I succeed in giving you an heir, you will give me an army to come to my aid when the war happens. I do not ask for them to swear fealty to me; their loyalty to you is sufficient.”

Ryoko leaned back on her throne, her ringed fingers tapping an irregular rhythm on her armrest. When she opened her mouth, she was looking at Sho alone. “I’ve heard that you don’t require some of your men to make a pledge.”

“Some of them are not sworn to me, yes,” Sho affirmed.

“But you trust that they will see your cause till its conclusion?”

“I do,” Sho said.

“You harbor outlaws in your army,” Ryoko said. “And you speak of them in high regard?”

“Yes,” Sho answered simply.

“How come?”

“It’s not me they chose to follow. They follow those who chose to follow me,” Sho said. “Their loyalty is questionable, yes, but I simply needed the numbers. Whether they fight for my crown or for their freedom should they serve well is up to them. I won’t require anyone to pledge themselves to me—” he nodded in Ishihara’s direction, “—since they don’t know me.”

“But they know me,” Ryoko said.

Sho only smiled.

For a moment, Jun thought the queen would require a recess. She studied Sho for a few seconds more, perhaps attempting to gauge his sincerity.

Jun chanced a glance at Sho and thought that there was nothing to see except the charm that Sho had been exuding in abundance for a while now.

“An heir for an army,” Ryoko said after exchanging a look with Ishihara. “You have a deal, Emperor Apparent. Fulfill your end of the bargain now.”

Ishihara stepped forward, and Jun situated himself between her and Sho.

“He’s rather protective, isn’t he?” Ryoko asked, amused.

“She will just escort me,” Sho murmured, his mouth hardly moving. “They do not require me to lay with any of their women; they’re just going to take me to the infirmary to have what they need.”

“That will require you to be alone with them still,” Jun told him. “You said I should stay by your side.”

“I would rather you did not while I do what I must do,” Sho said. “Stay here.” Jun didn’t budge. “And let go of my arm.”

“No,” Jun said. He hadn’t realized he’d grabbed Sho, but it was done. “I don’t care if you’re embarrassed; I can stay in the infirmary.”

“Let him do as he wishes,” Ryoko said to Sho, her smile wide and pleased. “It’s a shame he isn’t royalty; he would have made beautiful children. Go. And when you return, we will have a feast, to celebrate our newly formed alliance.”

Sho inclined his head in acceptance and gratitude, giving one last bow before he allowed Ishihara to escort him, Jun walking on his other side. They reached the infirmary without exchanging any small talk with Ishihara or her soldiers, and once inside, they led Sho to an examination room and told him to wait.

Despite the look Sho threw his way, Jun refused to leave. He would, once the physician arrived. But till then, he would stay.

“We need to do something about your attachment tendencies,” Sho said since they were alone.

“You’re the one who told me to follow your rules,” Jun said. “I’m not letting you walk in here unguarded.”

“I was trying to exhibit trust,” Sho said. “Which you have splendidly undone, by the way. Though I think you amused Her Majesty with your actions.”

Jun thought the same; the queen had referred to him as Sho’s companion despite Sho’s introduction.

“You’ve done it,” Jun said. “You have an army.”

“I haven’t signed a treaty yet,” Sho said.

“But you know it’s being drafted as we speak,” Jun told him. “We will return to Hamal with a Denebian army.”

“An army of women,” Sho said. “Yes, that should amuse the snake in my mother’s council; they’re notorious for their sexism. They can’t show any of it to my mother though, since she’s Empress.”

“Is that why you chose Denebia to aid you? Because their army itself will annoy the enemy in your planet?”

“Because in the event that we are victorious, their loss will be twice as bitter,” Sho said. “I don’t play just for the sake of participation; I play to win. My throne is at stake here. If my mother chooses to engage in civil war, I have to be ready to defend my claim to the throne.”

“And you are,” Jun told him. “The Denebian army is Her Majesty’s finest. She won’t be sending soldiers to you; she’ll be sending her best warriors. Combine that with the army you have in the outskirts, it should be enough.”

“I have five thousand Hamali in the outskirts, ready to answer when called,” Sho said. “Half of that number are the outlaws I’ve recruited in my search for more men. If Denebia gives me five thousand more, that’s roughly the size of my mother’s army in Sheratan.”

“You still haven’t told me about who we’re fighting against,” Jun said. “I’ve taken you this far; I deserve to know.”

Sho gave him a cool look, and Jun leveled his gaze.

“Later then,” Sho said. They heard the doors swooshing open, and a physician stepped in. “Wait for me outside.”

Jun departed as soon as the physician drew the curtains shut, and he stood beside the now closed doors along with Ishihara. Her soldiers were gone, and she appeared to be waiting for Jun.

“Is your emperor’s offer true?” Ishihara asked.

“It is,” Jun said. “With your planet’s aid, he can save his planet.”

“He is one man,” Ishihara said. “We’ve never been led by a man.”

“He will not lead you,” Jun said. “You will lead your soldiers to battle, at least until this skirmish comes to an end and your planet has fulfilled their end of the bargain. And if you’re still troubled by the idea of that, his head of security is a woman.”

“A woman,” Ishihara said, devoid of any emotion.

“I never won against her in single combat,” Jun said. Keiko had made him kiss the floor mats in all of their subsequent matches. A few days after, Kiko had sent him to the dust.

Ishihara sported a frown now. “And yet you are his personal bodyguard?”

“He has his reasons,” Jun said, not wanting to comment on how unpredictable Sho’s thinking was. He must make Ishihara believe that Sho was a person worthy of the queen’s trust.

Ishihara’s eyes narrowed, and it took Jun a few seconds.

“It’s not like that,” Jun said, but he knew it was too late. He suppressed the overwhelming urge to sigh.

“And you?” Ishihara asked with a lilt of amusement. “What is expected of you in this upcoming war?”

Jun looked over his shoulder, at the shut doors of the infirmary.

There was no other answer.

“Stay by his side,” he said.

--

Sho had a slight flush to his cheeks when the doors of the infirmary swung open to let him through, and Jun pursed his lips.

“You’re making a very unappealing expression,” Sho said. Jun noticed that Sho only met his eyes briefly. “Do not laugh.”

Jun jerked his head to the side and said, “We should go. General Ishihara will be escorting us to the banquet hall.”

Sho extended an arm and Ishihara began walking, the two of them following her footsteps that hardly made any sound despite the thick padding of the soles of her boots.

“Have you fulfilled your end of the bargain?” Jun asked.

“Let’s save that talk when we meet Her Majesty once more,” Sho said.

Jun stuck with silence, but he kept casting furtive glances in Sho’s direction. Sho wouldn’t step out of the infirmary until he had, in some way, ensured that he’d provided a female heir. No matter how many tests and extractions the Denebian physician had conducted, Sho must’ve agreed to do all of them until they’d obtained the results they wanted.

Simply put, Sho’s refusal to talk to him meant a yes, and he was merely avoiding conversing with Jun out of embarrassment. What Sho had done in that infirmary was no secret.

It amused Jun, that he now had a perfectly acceptable reason of laughing at Sho. But he refrained from doing so, intending to save that for later in private.

The banquet hall was as grand as the throne room had been; the interior was similar. There was a dais with a long table at its top, and a golden chair was situated at the center of the table. Ishihara led them to the dais, and they passed by a series of long tables with Denebian cuisine being placed on their surfaces.

The hall was beginning to get filled with people, and Jun noticed that most of them were female soldiers. The ladies of the court climbed up to the dais and took their respective places, and upon the announcement of the queen’s entrance into the hall, Jun caught Sho straightening his already perfect posture and looking out.

Queen Ryoko had a smile on her face that made her appear serene and benevolent. Her strides were evenly paced and graceful, her long dress revealing the tips of her shoes as she walked. When she finally took her seat, she gestured for Sho to sit beside her.

Jun could sense that every pair of eyes in the hall was on them, and he wondered when was the last time a man had been granted the tremendous honor of sitting at the high table. As a bodyguard, Jun remained at the back of Sho’s seat, his eyes already searching for escape routes should something unprecedented happen.

“First, a toast,” Ryoko said, her voice carrying out into the hall. She lifted her goblet, and Jun saw Sho do the same. “To our negotiations ending swiftly. I thought you’d make it complicated and prolong our talk.”

“I thought you’d hate it if I had done that,” Sho said.

“I would have,” Ryoko admitted with a smile, and she drained her goblet and asked immediately for a refill. If Sho drank, Jun couldn’t tell. He hadn’t consumed enough to be able to tell when Jun took a peek at his goblet.

“Your bodyguard should be beside you,” Ryoko said to Sho, and with a tilt of her chin, there was a brief shuffling of seats until the one next to Sho was devoid of an occupant. “I think it will unsettle him greatly if he wasn’t.”

“He takes his duty seriously,” Sho said. He exchanged one look with Jun and Jun took the seat beside him. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

Jun bowed his head in gratitude.

His plate and goblet were refilled by an attendant, and he tried very hard to eavesdrop in Sho and Ryoko’s conversation despite the celebration taking life in front of them. There was a Denebian dance performance happening at the center of the hall, and listening to the lyrics of the music told Jun it was a dance of courtship.

Courtship of women by women, and briefly, it took Jun’s attention away.

“Do you want to see the treaty my council has drafted?” Jun heard Ryoko ask.

He focused on sampling a portion of his food but he started listening intently.

“I was hoping Her Majesty could tell me what other terms does she want me to agree to,” Sho said. “It would save time, and that’s how you want it, isn’t it?”

He heard more than saw Ryoko smile. “My soldiers want weapons.”

“I’m afraid there is a shortage of that in my camp,” Sho said. “We barely have enough for each man.”

“No, I was pertaining to the spoils of war,” Ryoko said. “The weapons of your enemies that will be slain in the hands of my soldiers will be theirs.”

“Done,” Sho said. “Anything else?”

“If my women spare someone, they may claim that person for themselves,” Ryoko said.

Jun waited for Sho’s response to that. Hamal was against any form of slavery, but the spoils of war weren’t included in that practice.

“All right,” Sho said.

“Regardless of who they are,” Ryoko said.

“My mother’s army consists of men who are not sworn to me since I am not the emperor. Should any of them be spared, your soldiers may have them. I don’t think Hamal has enough prison cells to house them all, anyway,” Sho said.

That amused Ryoko, who let out a small chuckle. “You’re surprisingly agreeable to all of this, contrary to what I’ve been informed of. I can only think of one reason.”

“Aside from my obvious need for aid?” Sho asked curiously, charmingly.

“Yes. You’ve ensured that I have an heir,” Ryoko said.

“The extraction was successful,” Sho said. “In case the fertilization fails the first time, I have provided three other specimens. The rest is up to your laboratory.”

“This child will not know you are her sire,” Ryoko said. “For all intents and purposes, she will be a child of Denebia, heir to my throne. Her Hamali origin will never be revealed to her, but she will be purely royal blood.”

“I have no objections to that,” Sho said. “If you’re afraid I might lay claim to the child when I become emperor and am in need of an heir, there are other ways. I will not take what is rightfully Denebia’s. That is not the Hamali way.”

“Then that portion of the treaty is settled. Denebia will have no obligations to Hamal once the war is over,” Ryoko said.

“If your army helps me secure my throne, I will consider your end of the bargain fulfilled,” Sho said.

Jun stilled at that. After the civil war, there was a threat of a Saiphan invasion. But Sho had just said he wouldn’t be expecting Denebia’s aid at that time, and there was no way that his army could defeat Saiph’s. They’d be short on hands when that time comes.

“Denebia will not answer for you if Saiph declares war on you,” Ryoko said. “My planet will not be involved in such matters; we have no quarrel with Saiph despite my constant refusals to meet their royalty.”

“And I will never ask that from you,” Sho said. “You have my word. Only until my throne as secure.”

“Very well. We will sign the treaty after this.” Ryoko gestured to the attendants, and they began clearing the tables for the next course. “In the meantime, enlighten me. Why do you have a Saiphan for a bodyguard?”

“Because he’s the last person anyone would expect to be protecting me,” Sho said. Jun watched him partake in Denebian cuisine, his face lighting up. “This tastes divine.”

“Yes, we make sure our food is something replicators can’t get right,” Ryoko said, but she didn’t sound like she was deterred by Sho’s poor attempt of deflection. “How did you come by him?”

“He found himself into my service before either of us knew it,” Sho said. “I asked for men for my army and he was there.”

“And he’s undoubtedly a standout,” Ryoko said. “I find it very amusing that he shares the surname of the royal family of Saiph. I’d never thought the day would come that I’d personally witness a Sakurai working together with a Matsumoto, despite his surname being rather ordinary in occurrence.”

Jun pointedly looked at his food and tried to eat as casually as he could, pretending to not have heard a thing.

“I agree that it’s the most unlikely combination,” Sho said. “I’m glad it gave you amusement, though.”

“He seems very loyal to your cause. In a way, I somehow regret I won’t be able to witness his stand if you end up fighting against Saiph,” Ryoko said.

“These are matters to be addressed at another time,” Sho said. “I hope you forgive my curiosity, Your Majesty, but you agreed to my request while you declined Saiph’s. May I know why?”

“The queen of Saiph intended to send her herald to me. She claimed she was grieving at the time, you see,” Ryoko explained. “I would admit she has originality. But if her business with me is so urgent, she needs to come personally.”

“As I did,” Sho said.

Ryoko laughed. “Yes, as you did.”

“If Saiph asks for your aid to invade my planet, what will you say?” Sho asked.

Ryoko hummed in thought. “Hypothetically speaking? We both know Saiph doesn’t need my help if all she wants is to have your planet. I meant no offense; I am simply telling the truth.”

Sho shook his head in dismissal. “I am not offended. As I said, Majesty, I am merely curious.”

“Saiph has nothing to offer that I will want,” Ryoko said with finality. “Their Crown Prince is missing and likely dead, and my throne is already secure thanks to you.”

Sho inclined his head in gratitude, saying nothing more in the language of kings and queens. He ate and made small talk regarding the seasons and trade routes, the growing problem of space pirates within the vicinity. Jun didn’t know how Sho had managed to cram all that information inside his head, but perhaps that was what all the readings he’d done in Otonoha were for.

Sho was proving to be a talented conversant, sending Ryoko to laughter every now and then. It was nearly three hours later before Ryoko invited him to her study, and Sho gave Jun one look that told him he didn’t need to follow.

Jun returned Sho’s look with one of his own, and he caught Ryoko smiling in his periphery.

“Allow my general to escort your bodyguard to your quarters,” Ryoko said. “There’s a solar flare prediction that will last for half a day, and it’ll be troublesome if your ship gets caught in it.”

“I am thankful for your generosity and hospitality,” Sho said. To Jun: “Follow the general. That should give you something to do while I’m gone.”

Jun gave a curt nod in acceptance, and he stood as the entire hall rose after Ryoko did.

“Come, Emperor Apparent,” Ryoko said. “It’s time to document your hard work for today.”

Jun watched them leave, and he followed Ishihara out of the hall as soon as Sho was out of sight. Ishihara led him to a guest room in a deserted hall, tinkering with the console at the side of the doors to be permitted entrance.

Jun surveyed the room as quickly as he could, frowning at the sight of the bedroom before him.

There was only one bed.

It was big enough to fit two grown men, but Jun had to turn and ask for a cot or a sleeping bag.

Ishihara seemed puzzled, a furrow forming between her eyebrows. “Why do you require an additional mattress?”

“I am a bodyguard,” Jun said. “I sleep at the foot of his bed.”

“Is that how things are in Hamal?” Ishihara asked. “In Denebia, there is no distinction in the bedroom. The queen shares her bed with her bodyguard as a gesture of utmost trust.”

Jun had never heard of this in any of his cultural studies. But perhaps things were easier for Denebian royalty since they consisted of women. With women, it wouldn’t be strange to share such things.

“Yes, that is how things are in Hamal,” Jun said anyway.

“But you are not in Hamal,” Ishihara said, making her way out of the room and her point clear. “Rest well.”

The doors slid shut and she was gone, and Jun looked up and found security cameras all over the room. If he slept in the couch, would it be considered as an insult to the Denebians?

He needed Sho to send him to the couch as soon as Sho returns.

Jun had to wait for half an hour before he heard the doors swooshing open, and he saw Sho looking around before his eyes landed on Jun’s form.

Jun had been sitting on the edge of the bed since he’d grown tired of pacing, and he explained the situation as best as he could.

“There are cameras so I think we will be watched,” Jun said. “Fortunately, I don’t think the cameras are designed to record our voices.”

“I see,” Sho said, and he began dressing down for bed, shrugging off his coat to drape it over the nearest chair. “Well? Do you intend to just stare as I prepare to sleep or will you at least do the same? We have to leave early so as not to overstay our welcome.”

“Order me to sleep on the couch,” Jun said. Had he been prince still, he’d never settle for anything less than the bed. But things were different now.

“And risk forfeiting the treaty because I chose to disrespect their culture? No. You’ve caused enough trouble in the infirmary, one we just barely avoided. If this is a test, I intend to excel. We sleep as Denebians do.”

Jun opened his mouth, but Sho gave him a look. “That’s final, Matsumoto. Do not speak unless spoken to.”

Jun gritted his teeth but otherwise remained silent as asked. He gave Sho his back and dressed down, leaving only his tunic on as well as his undergarments. He heard Sho climb onto the bed and let out a breath.

Given the choice between suffering through Sho’s annoying comments and sharing a bed with him, Jun thought he’d likely choose the comments.

He waited until Sho was settled comfortably on his side of the bed before he climbed on, overly conscious of its other occupant. From the looks of it, they have to share the blanket too. Jun was grateful the Denebians had the care to provide more pillows; he could at least shove one between him and Sho once Sho was asleep.

“Stop that,” Sho said in irritation.

Jun stared at him. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You keep moving about and it’s as if I can hear you thinking,” Sho complained. “Everything about you is loud. Be quiet. I’m exhausted enough and I intend to rest. Lights at five percent.”

Not for the first time, Jun was overcome with the urge to wring Sho’s neck.

This, he wanted to say to Queen Ryoko, this is how he truly is.

He shifted, and he heard Sho sigh.

“It’s not my fault I can barely fit on this side,” Jun reasoned.

“Because you keep trying to leave a space between us as if we’re still waiting for another occupant,” Sho said. “Will it kill you to be reasonable for once?”

Jun wanted to hurl the same words at him. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one weirded out by this development.”

“What, sharing a bed with my sworn enemy? I’ve done worse, had worse. You flatter yourself.”

Jun decided to shut his eyes in a desperate effort to pretend that Sho wasn’t so close by. Hours ago, he hadn’t let the man out of his sight. Right now, he’d give anything.

The blissful silence wasn’t meant to last since Sho spoke once more.

“I already told Keiko she is to work side-by-side with the general,” Sho said.

That was wise, and Jun told him so. “The general told me they’ve never been commanded by a man before. I think Keiko-san is the right choice since her husband has also done reconnaissance in this planet.”

Sho didn’t say anything, and Jun turned his head to face him. “Something bothers you still,” he concluded after a moment.

“I really dislike how you can simply tell,” Sho said. “Is it so easy for you?”

Easy? Nothing about Sho was easy, Jun thought. He had no idea what Sho was talking about.

“Tell me,” he said instead. When Sho stuck with silence, he added, “You’ve got no one else to tell.”

“Yes, you seem very keen about reminding me of that,” Sho said.

Jun waited, and when it felt like Sho wouldn’t speak, Jun opened his mouth to take the words back.

“I fear the worse is yet to come,” Sho admitted in a small voice, halting Jun’s words. “I didn’t expect we’d be able to get that treaty signed so quickly. It’s as if there’s something else.”

“Like what?”

For a moment, Jun thought Sho wasn’t going to reply. But he did. “I have a feeling I’m being watched. Closely. Closer than I expect.”

“Here?” Jun never had the impression that the Denebians were treacherous.

“No, not here,” Sho said with a shake of his head. “But what I left in Sheratan may have followed me.”

Jun could feel his blood turning cold, and he chose his words carefully as he spoke. “You think you have a spy in the outskirts? That’s impossible; the Hamali you have there are under Aiba and they are fiercely loyal to you. As for the outlaws, they’re terrified of Ohno.”

“I can’t explain it,” Sho said, and he sounded frustrated now. “But it prevents me from being overjoyed at securing the Denebian army.”

“You accomplished something great today,” Jun said. “Something that will be engraved in history when the time comes. Bit by bit, you’re already forging your own empire. That’s something to be joyous over.”

“Not if I’ll be murdered in the next moment,” Sho said. “Something like this...this comfort, this moment of tranquility—it’s not meant to last. These are things I have to fight for, before.”

Jun rolled to his side so he could see Sho better. “What happened to you?” he asked; he could no longer help himself. It had been on his mind since Ohno had said those words to him.

“You mean how did I become like this?” Sho asked. “Independent? Self-sustaining?”

“Something like that,” Jun said. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

I’m still your enemy, Jun thought. I was raised to be.

Sho’s eyes were on the ceiling. “I was a frail, sickly child at birth. They all thought I wouldn’t survive infancy, and when I did, they thought it would only be a matter of time. It was fortunate that my planet’s tradition is to name heirs once they reach the age of thirty. I had a countdown.”

“But you did survive,” Jun said.

“It wasn’t easy,” Sho said. “How many people do you think wanted the Hamali throne after discovering that the firstborn son of the Empress might not make it? I was simultaneously fighting disease and trying to avoid being assassinated. Imagine living with constant attempts made to your life. I tell you, the longer you survive, the more it warps the mind, especially that of a child.”

“But you’ve been named heir,” Jun said. “That should have put a stop to all of that.”

“Not if the snake still thrives in the council,” Sho said. “I’ve set enough traps to draw him out. I believe it’s only a matter of time.”

“This enemy we’re fighting,” Jun began, “tell me about them.”

“Challengers to the throne since they believe I won’t be adequate,” Sho said. “My mother has been fending them off for years, but they are yet to cease. Last I’ve heard, they’ve formed an army amongst themselves, though not large enough to stand a chance against my mother’s.”

Jun frowned. “That doesn’t explain why you have an army of your own.”

“I am preparing for the worst,” Sho said. “I don’t know what will happen yet, but I’ve trained myself to prepare for the worst. If the time comes that I have to fight two armies, at least I am ready.”

“Your mother won’t fight you,” Jun said. “She’s your mother.”

Sho didn’t say anything in response, and Jun allowed the silence to linger, rolling to his back once more so he could stare at the ceiling. He’s never been good at providing comfort. The right words eluded him when he needed them most.

“I’m glad I’m not alone here in a strange planet,” Sho whispered, too soft that Jun almost didn’t hear him. “This is the first time that I’m not.”

Sho then turned to his side to give Jun his back, and Jun took it as his cue to not comment on Sho’s admission.

“Good night,” he said instead, shutting his eyes.

He might be imagining it, but he thought he heard Sho say it in return before sleep claimed him.

--

Jun woke with the morning sun of Denebia shining on his face, and he rubbed the sleep off his eyes before he sat up. The chronometer on the nightstand beside him indicated that it was early morning, that had he been in Hamal, the sun wouldn’t be up yet at this hour.

He could hear a muffled conversation from the room adjacent to the bedroom, and he could recognize Sho speaking. He couldn’t make out the words, and he picked up his phaser and set it to stun as he crept slowly, trying not to make too much noise.

When he reached the corner, he slowly took a peek and he found Sho on the couch, a pad in his hands. He appeared to be engaged in a live transmission.

“There is something for you there,” he heard Sho say. “If it’s a trap, what do you have to lose? You only have to survey the moon; you don’t have to land on it.”

Jun revealed himself then, and he saw Sho hold up a hand to silence whoever he was talking to.

“Consider my proposition,” Sho said. “Until then.” He swiped his finger and the transmission ended, and now Jun was suspicious.

“Who were you talking to just now?” he asked.

Sho switched off his pad and said, “No one important. Must I report everything to you?”

“As your bodyguard, I have the right to know.”

“This isn’t one of those things.” Sho stood, pad tucked under his arm. “Make yourself presentable. We go to court to bid farewell, then we’re off this planet.”

Jun noticed then that he was wearing the same clothes when he’d gone to bed the previous night. There was no room for embarrassment, however; time was of the essence. He went back to the bedroom and started shrugging his clothes back on, tucking his weapons in their respective places on his body.

He managed to wash up a bit in the washroom before he stepped out, and he found Sho lingering by the door.

Without a word, Sho made his exit and Jun trudged after him. Jun couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d witnessed the next crucial step in Sho’s plan, but he knew asking outright would be futile. Sho would never tell him a thing.

Queen Ryoko had a small feast prepared for them still, but she was absent in the banquet hall when they reached it. They were ushered to their respective seats, and once seated, Sho started eating while nothing was amiss.

“You should eat,” Sho said after a moment. “We’ve got a long way to go.”

“Do we have to stop over somewhere?” Jun asked as he began partaking.

Sho swallowed what he was chewing before he replied, “According to the treaty I signed, we will rendezvous with the remaining half of the Denebian army. They’re on their way back from a peace mission, but having received Her Majesty’s new missive, they are to meet us halfway to Hamal.”

Sho subsequently briefed him about what to do, and Jun settled for just giving nods of acknowledgement. Sho paused when an attendant approached him, and Jun overheard that the queen was expecting them at the spaceport as soon as they were done.

“We will be there shortly,” Sho said to the attendant, who excused herself then. To Jun: “We must hurry.”

“I know,” Jun said, standing. “Her Majesty doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you said.”

“You were listening,” Sho said, and he permitted the soldiers to escort them with a tilt of his head. “Is that a habit of yours? How many of my conversations have you overheard?”

“Including the one you engaged in just before we had to eat?”

Sho smiled in amusement—a rarity for him. “Including that.”

“It’s not my fault you speak louder than you should,” Jun told him.

“I think it’s because you possess quite the large ears,” Sho said, pointing to the side of his face. He clucked his tongue repeatedly. “That habit has to go too.”

“I’d stop if you start telling me what’s going on,” Jun said.

“But I do tell you what’s going on,” Sho said in fake-surprise. “In fact, I’ve already told you many things you weren’t supposed to know. You ought to be grateful.”

Jun remembered the night before, and he realized that perhaps, he’d been the only person to whom Sho had admitted such things to.

They spent the rest of the trek to the spaceport in silence; Jun didn’t know what else to say. Sho was conversing with a soldier anyway, asking about whatever piqued his curiosity as they passed by certain wings of the palace. He inquired about the interior, the palace history, the average length of sandstorms. They were all innocent, harmless questions—nothing incriminating, and Jun thought that was Sho’s way of refusing to talk to him.

When they reached the spaceport and found the queen, she stood next to their ship in her extravagant garb. She was tall and she commanded authority with a single glance, and Sho knelt on one knee in reverence as soon as he was in front of her.

Jun did the same, not lifting his head until told to do so.

“Your Majesty has honored me and my bodyguard tremendously, and that is something I will never forget,” Sho said. “It is unlikely that we will meet again, but know that across the galaxy, Denebia will have a friend in Hamal.”

Ryoko smiled and ordered Sho to rise, hands resting on his shoulders. “Denebia is your ally until your throne is secure. May the stars shine upon you, Emperor Apparent. If we meet again, I hope it is as equals—queen and emperor.”

“You have my gratitude, Your Majesty.” Sho bowed his head once more, and Ryoko took a step back, extending her hand towards the ship.

“We’ve provided enough supplies for you to make the journey,” Ryoko said. “Take care of my soldiers, Emperor Apparent. They are yours for the time being.”

Sho put his hand over his heart and gestured for Jun to stand. Jun followed him as he climbed aboard their ship, and the last thing he saw before he sealed the hatch was the queen leaving and her soldiers dispersing.

“They’ll come with us,” Sho said, already making his way to the bridge. “When we get to Hamal, we bring an entire army.”

That would explain General Ishihara’s absence earlier. She must’ve been commanding her troops already, their ships prepared for takeoff.

Jun opened the ship’s communication channel and approved of all incoming requests, syncing their ship’s channel with the rest of the Denebian army.

“Stay at the back,” Jun said, fastening his seatbelt. “And put your seatbelt on. If you remember how roughly we landed here, it’s going to be twice of that since we have to go against gravity.”

Sho left, and Jun started flipping switches. He’d already mapped the return route, but he still had to make adjustments to it since they had to get half of the army. He focused on getting the ship out of Denebia and not what waited for them, but his mind kept returning to what he’d overheard this morning.

It had been Sho making another arrangement. What for, Jun didn’t know yet. He had a feeling he would soon enough.

He gave his affirmative when he heard Ishihara’s voice through the communication channel, confirming their location by sending coordinates. They made the hyperspace jump as soon as they were out of Denebia’s gates, and Jun unfastened his seatbelt to search for Sho when he had the ship on autopilot.

He found Sho on the observation deck of the small ship, a window that only showed a portion of what was outside. If Sho had heard him approach, he made no indication of it. He sat with one leg folded in front of him, his arm resting on his knee.

From this angle, Jun could see the line of his jaw, barely noticeable when they were face-to-face.

“What are you thinking of?” Jun asked.

“Many things,” Sho replied, not looking at him still. “Which one would you like to know?”

“The most pressing,” Jun said. He had to make the most of this moment. Sho wasn’t normally this open to revealing things to him.

“Something is waiting for us out there,” Sho said with certainty. “You don’t feel it?”

“What, dread? The impending sense of doom?” Jun asked. “I do. But unlike before, I feel as if we stand a chance. That we can fight back against whatever’s coming.” He noticed the look in Sho’s face and added, “I know you play to win. But we can’t win instantly.”

The look didn’t leave Sho’s face, and Jun frowned.

“You don’t want to fight,” he said.

“What?” Sho asked, but it came out weakly—like Jun had said the right thing.

“If you could, you’d rather avoid it,” Jun said. “You don’t want any blood spilled since regardless of the side they’re on, they’re your people.”

Sho averted his eyes in response.

“You do know it’s too late for that, right?” Jun asked. “You have to fight as well.”

“Do you take pleasure in this? Reminding me of what I have to do knowing full well I am aware of them?” Sho asked.

“Is that why you killed those men?” Jun asked quietly. Sho didn’t respond, but Jun now knew that it was his way of saying yes. “Have you ever killed a man before that?”

No answer.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the ship’s AI’s voice rang out, summoning him to the bridge since they’d drop out of hyperspace soon. He left, but Sho’s lack of response remained with him. Jun wouldn’t call himself an experienced killer, but he knew he could do it if he had to.

Sho didn’t look like he could. He had said it himself: he’d been a sickly child at birth. He must’ve not had any proper training since no one had believed he’d survive to adulthood.

Jun dropped the ship out of hyperspace and pulled the brake, and Sho joined him in bridge. Past the windows, Jun could see a fleet of spaceships—the other half of the Denebian army. Jun opened their channel to all frequencies and nodded to Sho, who addressed the army.

Jun didn’t listen; his eyes were fixed on Sho. Their fates were entwined now. There was no turning back from this—the fleet before them was proof of it. This was something they’d accomplished together, and Jun had to see this through its end.

He’d stay until then. And if he’d make it with Sho still alive and victorious, he’d ask for his freedom. By that time, he would have earned it. Sho wasn’t the typical ruler, but he had to reward service in one way or another.

Sho closed the channel by flipping the switch. “Take us back to Hamal.”

Jun caught him by his forearm before he could leave. Sho’s eyes widened—he clearly wasn’t expecting to be stopped as he made his way out.

“When all this is over,” Jun said, “when you’re emperor, set me free.”

“So you can fight alongside your people when they come to invade my planet?” Sho asked.

“No, I won’t fight against you when the time comes,” was all Jun could say. Anything more would reveal too much.

After the civil war, he intended to return to Saiph to reclaim his throne. It was the only way he could stop the upcoming invasion. He had to have some supporters left still; he’d been an influential prince then.

He’d find a way. One that wouldn’t result in death.

Sho stared at him, and after a moment, he said, “While you are in my service, you are in no position to make any demands. Let go of my arm at once.”

Jun did as he was told, and they spoke no more as they made the return journey.

--

Their arrival at the outskirts of Hamal was welcomed by the entirety of Sho’s army, with Ohno, Aiba, and Keiko standing in the frontlines. They didn’t fit in the spaceport so they flanked outside, and one by one, the Denebian ships landed, unloading soldiers and forming lines.

“You’ve brought more,” Ohno said to Sho when he and Jun were close enough.

“Did you doubt that I could?” Sho asked lightly.

“No. But you have more than what we were expecting,” Ohno said.

Sho faced Keiko. “General Ishihara has some questions. Tell her everything she needs to know.”

“Yes, Highness,” Keiko said, and she walked past Sho to meet Ishihara halfway.

Sho turned back to Ohno, took a look at the man, and said, “Something has happened.”

“If you wish, we can speak in private,” Ohno said after a momentary hesitation.

“No,” Sho said. “You’ve assembled the army; something urgent has happened. Tell me at once.”

Jun noticed the shift in Aiba’s expression, how Ohno had to take a measured breath before he began speaking.

“Your mother has fallen ill,” Ohno said. Sho froze; Jun was close enough to him to be able to tell. “A transmission came directly from Sheratan, from the royal physician. She found out what you have here in the outskirts and it took a toll on her health.”

“Lies,” Sho whispered, eyes wide. “Lies. They—”

Poisoned her, he didn’t say, but he didn’t have to.

Ohno gave him a knowing look but didn’t comment. “The council rules the planet for her since your sister isn’t of age yet. They have joined forces with the challengers and gave us the order to surrender.”

“No,” Jun said; he couldn’t help himself. How far would their desires to eliminate Sho would go? When they couldn’t kill him, they sought to harm his mother.

Sho had his eyes shut now, his jaw set. His hands were balled to fists at his sides, and when he opened his mouth to speak, Jun could detect the rage in his tone.

“Prepare the army,” Sho said evenly. “I will not surrender.”

Ohno bowed his head, and to the army, he started giving orders. Aiba did the same just as Sho began walking past the lines, his strides wide and hurried. Jun followed him as he made his way inside the camp, inside his dome with the doors sliding shut behind them.

“Leave,” Sho said without turning. He didn’t ask for the lights to be turned on, and they stood in darkness.

“No,” Jun said, standing his ground. He wouldn’t. Not now.

“Leave me alone,” Sho said, his voice cracking at the last syllable.

“No.” Jun didn’t dare take a step forward, but he kept his eyes on Sho’s back. “Not when you’re like this.”

Sho turned to him, expression fierce, his teeth gritted. He lunged at Jun and Jun caught his wrist midway, held him still. Sho’s other hand swung in an arc but Jun had been expecting it, and he stood there, holding Sho back.

“Get out,” Sho hissed.

“No,” Jun told him softly. “I’m staying.”

I’m staying because you have no one else.

Sho’s breaths came out heavy now, his chest heaving with each inhale. When Jun felt him loosen up, Jun let his wrists go, allowing them to drop to his sides.

“Why do you stay even when I send you out?” Sho asked with eyes shut, but from his tone, Jun could tell he wasn’t looking for an answer. “I tried to get rid of you countless times, and you keep finding your way back.”

“I’m sorry,” Jun said. It made Sho look at him, confusion marring his features. “I’m sorry they got to you like this.”

Last time, he’d been able to prevent it. He’d saved Sho then, but Jun knew he couldn’t do anything now.

“If they hurt her in any way, including my sister and my brother,” Sho said, “I’ll kill them.”

“I know,” Jun told him.

“You can’t stop me this time,” Sho said, eyes hard on his. “I won’t let you.”

“I know,” Jun said again. “I won’t stop you.” At the shift in Sho’s expression, he continued, “Because I know how it feels to have someone you love harmed just to get to you. But first, calm down.”

“Calm down,” Sho repeated sarcastically.

“You can’t fight them if you’re like this,” Jun said. “You’re not thinking straight because you’re blinded by your anger. This is exactly what they want. If you’re overcome by your emotions, you’ll fail.”

“I suppose you enjoy being the one who told me that as if I didn’t know,” Sho said.

“I’m not the enemy right now,” Jun told him.

“Then what would you have me do?” Sho asked, now sounding like a man pushed on the edge. He must’ve been feeling that way since Ohno had told him the truth; he was simply adept at hiding it in front of everyone.

“Don’t fight them here,” Jun said. “This is your camp; you have more to lose. If they raided us, we lose supplies and a few men. Designate a place that’s far from here, one that’ll give us an advantage.”

“I need Ohno and Aiba for this,” Sho admitted. “They know the territory more than I do.”

“Ninomiya does too,” Jun said. “I’ve seen that man work. If you need to plan an ambush, include him. His navigation skills are unmatched in your camp; he can do reconnaissance if needed, as well as Daigo-san. Get this done at least before we engage. You told me once that your mind is your weapon. Right now, you’re the only one with enough forces to defeat those who want your throne. You can’t falter now.”

“Call Ohno, Aiba, and Ninomiya in here,” Sho said.

Jun nodded, moving to leave.

“Wait,” Sho said, and Jun halted in his steps. “Just—in a moment. I require a moment.”

“You’ll have it,” Jun said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No,” Sho said.

Jun gave another nod, and he heard Sho say softly, “Don’t go. I—I don’t want to be alone just yet.”

The surprise only lasted for a few seconds.

“I’m here,” Jun muttered, and Sho said nothing more.

--

The official transmission from the palace herald came hours after, and Sho was officially charged with treason. The council had intercepted his transmissions to Denebia, and upon judging the content of each, they’d given Sho a choice: he could surrender and come to Sheratan willingly and await trial or he could fight and be destroyed.

Sho’s response had been simple: “I’ll see you at Lucida Ventris.”

Lucida Ventris was an old city in Hamal with a war history. That Sho had declared it as the meeting ground indicated that he still expected it to be an honorable fight despite Ohno’s stern warning.

Later in Sho’s dome, they had gathered. Keiko was sent to discuss battle strategies with Ishihara and promised to report at once. Keiko’s departure left five men standing around Sho’s desk, a hologram of the terrain floating among them.

Ohno stood across Sho, who had Aiba to his left and Jun to his right. Ninomiya stood on Ohno’s left, his expression serious for once.

“Lucida Ventris has a fortress,” Sho said, indicating that particular spot in the hologram. “One of the very few properties I have left in my name since they began seizing it all after I said I’ll fight. They can’t take it because my mother was the one who gave it to me; they need her in order to reclaim it.”

“If we can make it to the fortress, we can begin preparing for a siege,” Ohno said. “I had a feeling you’d use Lucida Ventris for this so I already had Aiba-chan prepare his best men.”

Aiba nodded. “They’ll be ready to leave as soon as you give the order, Highness.”

“Then consider it given,” Sho said. “I want that fortress. Within its walls, we have higher chances of defense.”

Aiba nodded, lifting his communicator at once. He gave instructions, and Jun heard a noise of affirmation coming out of the device.

Sho turned his gaze to Ninomiya and said, “I want you to work with Daigo-kun.”

“Keiko-chan’s husband?” Ninomiya asked, smiling. “Sure. Where are we going?”

“I want you to map the route our enemies will likely take. They will march from Sheratan to Lucida Ventris, but there are three routes to get there if you’re coming from the capital. Take a ship and do surveillance, and report back as soon as you can.”

“All right,” Ninomiya said.

“It should go without saying that you are not to be spotted or get caught,” Sho said.

Ninomiya grinned. “You’re sending your best spy with me. We’ll manage, princeling.”

“Then I will see you both in the fortress,” Sho said. “Dismissed.”

Ninomiya left without a bow or another word, and Sho waited until they heard the doors swooshing shut upon Ninomiya’s exit.

“Tell me what to do next, Captain,” Sho said to Ohno. “I am in need of your advice.”

“If we succeed in claiming the fortress, they will flank us. Their ships will be flying overhead and fire upon us, so we better get the shields up before they even arrive. I expect that they’re going to get their reinforcements in the cities they’ll pass through in order to reach the designated battleground, so that gives us a bit of time. Two weeks from now, at least,” Ohno said in a calm voice. “You said the Denebian queen gave you her best?”

“Her best and finest, she claimed,” Sho said.

“Then in the field, put them between my men and Aiba-chan’s,” Ohno said. “Put them in line with the gates so our enemies cannot breach it.”

Sho gave a nod as well as Aiba, who added, “Put us beside you, Sho-chan.”

Jun blinked. He’d never heard Aiba address Sho in that manner before.

“We’re sworn to protect you. Keiko-chan’s division is coming with us, and that means you should stay with us,” Aiba said.

“I intend to fight,” Sho said. “In the front lines. They expect me not to, and that’s why I’ll be there.”

“I know,” Aiba said. “We’ll be with you. Before anything else, we made the pledge to protect you. As we carry your banner and fight in your name, we’ll see that oath fulfilled.”

“Aiba-chan’s right,” Ohno said. “You and Matsumoto should be on that side. They expect you to stand in line with the gates, and that will only make you an easy target.”

“What will you have me do with the ships? I intend to use all ships that we have our disposal, with Otonoha acting as a decoy,” Sho said.

A shift in Ohno and Aiba’s expressions, and Sho said, “I have to. If they fire upon her, that buys time for our men. And women.”

“Then let me fly her,” Jun said. Ohno and Aiba turned to him, a frown on Ohno’s face. Sho didn’t look at him. “Let me fly her with Ninomiya.”

“They already know you have a Saiphan bodyguard,” Aiba said. “That’s why they also charged you with conspiring with the enemies of the crown. If they find out he’s there, they’ll think you changed your mind and are willing to parley.”

Sho shook his head. “They will fire upon her once they see her. Do you really think they’ll pass up the chance to destroy me now that they have the reasons they needed?” He looked at Jun and said, “No.”

“I can fly her,” Jun insisted. “With Ninomiya by my side, we can evade their attacks. We’ll make it somehow!”

“No,” Sho repeated. “I will not risk that.”

“We’ll make it back,” Jun said. “I’ve taken you this far; I’m not letting you fight this war on your own.”

Sho finally faced him. “We will discuss this later.” He looked at Ohno. “I intend to have the best pilots assume the best offense formation. Will they follow a squadron leader?”

“They will if it’s me,” Ohno said. “For the preliminary attack, allow me to be airborne. Once we’ve disabled most of their ships, they will fight us on land.”

“We will be ready for them,” Aiba said, mostly to Ohno.

“Then destroy as many ships as you can,” Sho said. “We will await you on land.”

Ohno nodded. “I will need to speak with the Denebian general regarding formations,” he said. “Aiba-chan, come. We can’t wait for Keiko-chan anymore. They need to know what we have in mind.” To Sho: “I will report back as soon as we have it finalized.”

“Then we will march to Lucida Ventris in a week,” Sho said. “I’m not taking any chances; we need to be ahead of them every step of the way.”

“Understood,” Ohno and Aiba said in unison, bowing their heads briefly.

“Dismissed,” Sho said.

Jun watched them go, and as soon as he and Sho were alone, he said, “Let me fly Otonoha.”

“No,” was all Sho said. He powered up a couple more holograms, and Jun saw the layout of the fortress under Sho’s name.

“If you send somebody else, you will lose a ship along with the man inside it,” Jun said. “Send me and Ninomiya. We can do it.”

“No,” Sho said once more, and Jun was getting irritated.

“Do you think I can’t? Or do you think we’ll run away the first chance we get? I gave you my word. I’m not leaving now and I’m not letting Ninomiya leave.”

“It’s not that,” Sho said sharply.

“Then what?” Jun demanded, grabbing Sho’s elbow to have the man look at him. “If you don’t trust me, say it. At least give me a reason why you’re being this stubborn even when you know I am proposing the right thing to do.”

“I need you here,” Sho said through gritted teeth. It made Jun’s grip slacken; he hadn’t expected that. When Sho spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “I...I can’t do this alone.”

Jun stared at him. Things were changing between them, and Jun only noticed it now. Denebia had ignited something between them, had started them on a precarious slope.

And Jun was already descending.

“I’ll make it back,” Jun said, his voice gentle now. “I will fight by your side in the field.”

When Sho met his eyes, Jun, for the first time, knew what he was about to say.

“Promise me,” Sho said, his lips hardly moving.

Jun made a fist and put it over the badge resting on his heart. “I will return. I swear it.”

Sho closed his eyes, and for a moment, he looked younger.

“Then once we arrive at Lucida Ventris and Ninomiya has returned, take my ship,” Sho said, his features resigned, “and buy us some time.”

Jun nodded, and Sho waved his hand.

“Inform Ohno of this development,” Sho ordered.

“As you wish,” Jun said, and he took his leave, but he could feel eyes on him as he walked.

--

When he returned to Sho’s dome after hours of listening to Ohno discuss tactics to him, it was dark and silent. Unlike the previous times, Jun no longer saw that as a cause of alarm, instead searching for Sho while keeping his footsteps light.

He found Sho standing in front of his bookshelf, an old tome in his hands.

When he made his presence known, Sho extended his hand that held the book.

“This was my favorite as a child,” he said, and Jun stepped closer, taking the book from him. It was a compilation of myths and legends from the Old World, not focusing on a specific civilization. “That copy is something I lifted from the royal library and never returned.”

“So you’re a book thief,” Jun said with a smile. He flipped through the pages, running his fingers over the list of contents.

“The library was the only place in the palace where I felt safe when I was young,” Sho said. “I stayed away from the pads because everyone used them. The books were a safe haven; nobody liked something so physical in form anymore. With those, I could escape.”

“Which one is your favorite story?” Jun asked.

“The one about the sculptor and his greatest creation,” Sho said.

Jun offered him the book once more. “Read it to me.”

Sho gave him an incredulous look but took the book anyway. “You didn’t come here to hear me read. You came here to report.”

“It can wait,” Jun assured him. “It was just tactics and formation and military strategies. Your captain is an amazing man.”

“Would he be a better leader for this army?” Sho asked.

Jun smiled and shook his head. “He’s exceptional, but he wouldn’t be able to convince the Denebians. You know this.”

Sho flipped through the pages without replying, and when he stopped at a particular page, he asked, “Do you read often?”

Jun could remember himself asking the same question to Sho before. “When I could, I did.”

“What were Saiphan books like?” Sho asked, and he led the way to the bedroom. Jun moved to the corner of the room where his sleeping bag was and sat with legs crossed.

“Political,” Jun said. “Scientific. If we had literature, it was mostly poetry about our history.”

“About war, then,” Sho said.

“Yes.”

“There is a legend widely known in Hamal that when the Old World was destroyed, its original inhabitants divided themselves into two large factions depending on what side they supported during the Great War. Then they spread across the galaxy, finding a new home for themselves. One half consisted of your people, the other half mine.”

“I’ve heard of this,” Jun said. “They said that the side that consisted of the ancestors of my people had most of the ambition that originated from the Old World, including their thirst for glory.”

Sho nodded. “And mine were those who adhere to traditions. The Hamali legend goes that, if those divided inhabitants were to be put together in one place once more, there will be a repeat of the Old World.”

“You think that’s will happen to your planet if Saiph makes its move after this.”

“No,” Sho said, not quite looking at him. “I don’t believe in the legend.”

Jun was surprised. “How come?”

“Because here we are, two descendants from each half, trying to prove the legend otherwise. Two halves that make the whole, defying what might be history.” Sho let out a breath. “I’ll make you a promise. Once I am emperor, I will set you free and give you a ship which will take you away from here. Regardless of where you choose to go, you will be given the freedom to live in any of the colonies under Hamal’s protection, and whatever oath you swore to me will be held fulfilled then.”

The thought of freedom made Jun homesick. He’d see this through and he could leave. He could return to Saiph and put his plans in motion now that Sho had truly given him his word.

Sho turned away from him and started flipping the pages of the book once more. “Lights at sixty percent.”

“Read to me,” Jun said.

“Is that a demand?”

Boldly, Jun said, “Yes.”

Sho regarded him, and Jun added, “It fascinates me.” He didn’t know why he felt like explaining. “The way you speak your language.”

“You speak it as good as any Hamali here do,” Sho said.

“True,” Jun agreed, “but our accents still differ in some parts.”

It was far from what Jun truly wanted to say. Please, he thought. This might be the last time.

When all this was over, it’d be time for him to go. They both knew it.

Sho kept his eyes on the opened tome on his lap, and when he spoke once more, Jun allowed himself a small smile.

“A gifted sculptor from Cyprus, named Pygmalion, was a woman-hater.”

--

They spoke of strategies the following morning. Sho had food brought to his dome, and he and Ohno discussed back and forth with Keiko representing General Ishihara since conversing about war with men didn’t sit well with her yet.

Jun was in the corner of Sho’s study with Aiba, who had been tasked with orienting Jun about the terrain.

“There is a ridge here,” Aiba said, pointing to a part of the hologram floating before them. “And you can lead your pursuers there. If you can maneuver Otonoha on her side, you can pass through this ridge without a problem. It will take a really precise calculation though.”

“That’s what Ninomiya is for,” Jun said. “I don’t doubt his abilities for a second. Where does this ridge lead to?”

“To the northern border leading to Sheratan,” Aiba said. “There’s a forest beyond as you see here. You have to be flying close to the ground though—it buys you a few seconds if they have to look for you once they get past the ridge.”

“No problem,” Jun said. “We’ll just rely on thrusters.”

“I’ve informed Nino of his next assignment, and he told me he was looking forward to working with you again,” Aiba said. “Is he your friend?”

“Closest thing to it, I guess,” Jun said.

“I already asked Nino to familiarize himself with the territory so it’ll be easier for both of you,” Aiba said. Jun saw him glancing to where Sho, Ohno, and Keiko were, and said, “I’ve never seen him like this.”

Jun followed Aiba’s line of sight, his eyes inevitably landing on Sho, on the serious expression that he had. “Driven, you mean?”

“No. Confident,” Aiba clarified. “He’s always carried himself in such a way, but I’ve known him too long that sometimes, I know very well where to look. He’s never looked like this before, like he now knows that he’s not fighting this war alone.”

“You’re very loyal to him,” Jun said. “You’ve never really shown me otherwise since I came here.”

“This is my chance to repay everything he’s done for me,” Aiba said. “I won’t desert him now.” He turned off the hologram before showing Jun a new one. “This mountain range has an underground cave which you can use as your way back. I don’t think the pilots of the royal palace know of this. They never visited the borders of Lucida Ventris since the territory is under the Emperor Apparent’s name.”

“If we take the ship there, it’ll lead us back to the fortress?” Jun asked.

“It’s over three-thousand feet long, but it will lead straight—” Aiba tinkered with the holo and gave Jun another view, “—here, to the rear gates of the fortress. We’ll be setting up explosives inside the cave. In case you get followed through there, open fire to cause a rockslide.”

“And bar another entrance to fortress shut,” Jun concluded. “Got it. I think we should still set off the explosives even if we’re not followed. Just to be sure.”

Aiba stroked his chin as he thought about it. “I’ll take it to the captain. But for what it’s worth, I agree with that idea.”

“Thank you,” Jun said. “Can they not fly overhead though? Past the mountain range?”

“They can’t bring down the fortress’ shields that way. It has to be disabled from within,” Aiba explained. “Lucida Ventris has the most advanced shielding system in Hamal since it used to be warzone. They know they can’t penetrate that barrier no matter what they do, so they’re going to try to infiltrate the fortress undetected. Stopping that is no longer up to you; that’s my job. Just get their attention, trap some if not most of their ships, and go back to the field as soon as you can.”

“Understood,” Jun said. “Ninomiya knows this plan?”

“It was him who suggested the explosives when I spoke to him about it,” Aiba said. “The shields will be momentarily turned off as soon as we spot Otonoha. It will be a five-second window. You have to be inside the fortress by the end of that or else the ship will be destroyed upon collision with you in it.”

“We’ll make it,” Jun said, despite doubt sprouting in his mind. He had to believe that they’d make it.

He’d made Sho a promise.

Aiba merely nodded, and they moved on to the blueprints of the ship that the soldiers of the royal palace would likely use. They discussed the strengths and weaknesses of the different models, where to hit so that they’d be able to incapacitate the ships. Aiba, Jun realized, explained things in the easiest way possible. He didn’t prettify his words nor tried to conceal anything. He’d never given Jun any cause to think that he was lying.

Hours later, when that was done and it was only him and Sho left in the dome, Jun said, “Come.”

Sho was still looking at holograms, and he had a look of confusion on his face when he turned to Jun. “What?”

Jun started gathering what he thought he’d need: phasers, daggers, two handheld staffs, and two sabers that were powered off. “Come with me to the clearing outside this camp.”

“Are you ordering me?”

“It’s a request.”

Sho quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to understand how requests work if that’s how you phrase your words.” He got to his feet anyway, switching off the holos and approaching Jun. “Why do you carry those things?”

“I’m going to teach you how to fight,” Jun said, making his intentions clear.

“I can fight,” Sho said. “Unless you’ve already forgotten what happened in Sheratan.”

“You can defend yourself if necessary,” Jun said. “But you can’t fight. I’m here to do something about that while we still have time.”

“And I suppose you think of yourself as an adequate teacher?”

Jun gave him a knowing look. “Would you like for me to call Keiko-san instead?”

Sho’s face went blank, and Jun smiled. “I thought so,” he said. “You’re afraid of her.”

“She won’t hesitate to lay me off,” Sho said. Then he sighed and waved his hand. “Fine. If you’re volunteering your services, I suppose I must make the most of it. This is a rare occurrence in itself.”

“Exactly,” Jun said, leading the way. “Follow me.”

“We can’t be seen,” Sho said.

There was Sho’s reputation to consider. “I know. Stay close to me.”

It would be no problem if the Hamali would see their future emperor learning how to fight—they knew of his struggles in his youth. But the others, especially Ohno and Ishihara’s divisions—they couldn’t have known.

Jun led Sho past the other domes as discreetly as he could, but fortunately for them the army was assembling near the spaceport. The part of the camp that led to the barren field was almost completely devoid of people.

They reached the clearing where Jun had spent most of his time on the ground during his training with Kiko, and he gave Sho a choice. “Which one would you like to learn first?”

“So I’m learning both,” Sho said. “I do have some skills with the saber; I’m not totally helpless.”

“Then the saber first,” Jun said. He handed Sho one staff and took the other. “Try to block as many as you can.”

“No warm up?” Sho asked, but he assumed a fighting stance.

“This is the warm up,” Jun said.

They exchanged blows but Jun soon knew that whatever skill Sho had, it wasn’t up to par to what he’d been trained with. Sho was a decent fighter, but he wasn’t Kiko. He was probably half of Kiko in terms of skill.

Which meant that their fight was more or less evenly matched. Jun was panting and had worked up a good sweat by the time Sho made a misstep, and Jun managed to strike his side.

“Sorry,” Jun said, but it was half-meant.

“Did you use this as an excuse to get even for all those verbal battles you’ve lost?” Sho asked, a hand stroking his side. It made the edge of his tunic rise, and Jun noticed a silver gash on his flank.

He was reaching out before he realized it. He held Sho by the wrist and raised the hem of the tunic higher, revealing the long scar. The skin was raised and uneven. “What’s this?”

“Nothing,” Sho hissed, pushing him back. Jun didn’t budge.

“That’s a knife wound,” Jun said. “You told me they only came close twice: with the poisoned drink and that assassination attempt in the royal palace.”

Sho looked away, and Jun grabbed his shoulder and shook him. “What are you not telling me?” he demanded.

“Not even my mother knows of this scar,” Sho said. Jun could see how uncomfortable he was; how he disliked that Jun had seen. Jun wasn’t supposed to see. “Her sister gave it to me.”

“Your aunt?!” Jun was shocked. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“As if anyone would believe a seven-year old child battling pneumonia,” Sho said. “I was on the verge of dying at that time—they all would think it was mercy killing.”

Jun felt anger rising in him, but it wasn’t directed at Sho. “Do you think she’s the one trying to dethrone your family?”

“I haven’t found conclusive proof, but who else? She would have been Empress after my mother, had I not made it to thirty. Hamali laws state that when the heir hasn’t come of age, the closest family member to the reigning ruler will hold the throne until the rightful heir reaches thirty. That would’ve been her. It would be easy to eliminate my mother after she eliminates me: grief alone will kill my mother.”

“Where else?” Jun said, not masking the rage in his voice. Sho had been a child.

Saiph had its flaws, but they didn’t harm children in Saiph.

“Do you expect me to present all my scars to you?” Sho asked, and he exerted enough force to finally push Jun off him. He straightened his tunic and let out a breath. “Why? So you can find which places they struck and which ones I survived? So you’ll know how extensively they tried in the past?”

“No,” Jun said. “So I’ll know how many scars I should leave them with before I kill them for what they’ve done to you. You were just a boy.”

Sho looked stunned but it was gone in a split-second. “I don’t require your protection.” He assumed his stance and said, “Or your coddling. You’re teaching me so I can defend myself. Then teach me, and stop treating me like I’m something fragile.”

He moved, and Jun barely had enough time to block his strike. Sho seemed fueled by resentment and embarrassment combined—the former for what he’d endured, the latter because of what Jun had seen.

Jun wasn’t meant to see. He knew that now, but it was too late.

“Do you think I want your sympathy?” Sho asked, teeth gritted. Jun evaded a lunge aimed straight for his jugular. Jun settled for just ducking and sidestepping; he was no longer fighting back. If he raised his staff, it was to shield himself from an otherwise lethal blow.

Sho was overcome with emotion now, fighting him like his life depended on it.

“Fight,” Sho said, breath coming in gasps. “Fight me.”

“No,” Jun said. “But hit as hard as you like. Pretend I’m them.”

Jun allowed a strike that had been aiming for his cheek to land, and his head whipped to the side when it made impact.

“Fight,” Sho said.

“No,” Jun said once more. His cheek stung. It would bruise for days. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You’ve been hurt enough, he didn’t say.

“Do you think that makes you a hero?” Sho asked. He was taunting Jun now, and Jun didn’t bite. Sho was saying these things because he was angry. “Do you think that undoes everything your people did to mine?”

“It doesn’t change a thing,” Jun said, pivoting on his heel to avoid a blow that aimed for his chest. “But hit me as much as you like. If it’ll make you feel better.”

Sho threw his staff to the side, giving Jun his back. He was gasping from exertion, his emotions right on the surface. He wasn’t unreadable now—all of him was right here for Jun to see.

He’d never be as beautiful as he was now.

“I’m not a monster,” Sho said, eyes shut. “I won’t fight someone who won’t hit back.”

Jun discarded his own staff and bent down to pick up Sho’s staff. He took Sho’s wrist, felt Sho’s pulse flickering, and placed the polished wood in his hand.

“Like this,” he said, careful not to meet Sho’s eyes. He was afraid of what he might see in them. “Pretend it’s a saber and slash here.” He let the tip of the staff rest on the pulse point of his neck. “Then hit here.” He had the tip touch his temple. “And if you can, pierce through here.”

He lay it over his heart, and he wondered if Sho could feel it beat wildly.

“The fewer the slashes, the better. Saves the energy,” Jun explained. He guided the staff to his liver. “Hit hard here. Kiko-chan told me it buys you a few seconds, gives you an opening if you strike with enough force that your blow can incapacitate them.”

“You’re teaching me how to kill my own people,” Sho said.

“They’re coming to kill you,” Jun said. “If you can, don’t leave them with enough strength to strike back. There might come a time that you will have to hold your own in the field. This is your biggest battle yet.”

When Sho didn’t respond, Jun lowered the staff and retrieved a phaser. He didn’t power it on, but he held it by the barrel to give Sho the grip.

Sho took it, and Jun rested a hand under his elbow to straighten his arm.

“Aim for the head,” he said, standing directly in the line of fire, resting the phaser’s tip on his forehead. “Don’t hesitate to pull the trigger; a second too late can get you killed.”

“Assuming their phasers are set to kill and not to stun,” Sho said.

“They’re not coming this far just to stun you,” Jun said. “You know this.” He moved to stand behind Sho, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Relax this. If it’s too stiff, you will miss. We don’t want you to miss. Not when they won’t while they’re aiming at you.” Jun pointed at a jagged piece of rock. “Try hitting that.”

Sho powered on the phaser and pulled the trigger. He managed to graze the rock’s surface, leaving a dark imprint on otherwise unmarred stone.

Sho’s eyes were fixed on the spot he’d made. “When I killed those men, did it change? How you think of me, I mean.”

“You’re not a killer,” Jun said. “I still think the same.”

“But I am. I killed those men. I see their faces sometimes. Mostly at night before I sleep.”

“They made you a killer,” Jun said. “They forced you to dirty your hands. But what you’ve done doesn’t define you; it’s how you feel about what you did that does.”

Sho wasn’t a bad person. He wasn’t the enemy that Jun’s tutors had made him believe. It was the system that Sho had lived in that was, the people in it that had been consumed by it that were.

“Have you killed a man before?” Sho asked after a moment.

“Yes. In a way.” He had to kill Crown Prince Jun in order to last this long. If he made it back to Saiph, he wouldn’t be the same.

He’d never be the same.

“How did it make you feel?”

Jun’s eyes fluttered shut. “It’s nothing like the war poetry I grew up with. It didn’t make fire course through my veins, it didn’t make my blood sing. I felt...empty. Like a lost a part of who I am.”

If he were still a prince, he wouldn’t have survived and come this far.

“When I killed those men, I didn’t do it for me,” Sho said.

“You were afraid they would target your siblings or your mother next,” Jun said.

Sho didn’t respond, instead firing another shot at the same rock. The imprint left was smaller than the previous, and Sho made a tiny noise of frustration and fired again.

This close, Jun could see the hairs on the back of Sho’s neck. Sho had spent his whole life protecting his family, letting himself be the target so his siblings would be spared from the horror brought by greed. He never told his mother about anything because the less she knew, the longer she remained alive.

But who was protecting him? Jun looked down at the badge pinned on his chest—at the now familiar weight of it—and he decided then.

“You’re not teaching me how to protect my left,” Sho remarked after most of the rock was marred with black.

“No,” Jun said.

“Why not?”

“Because that’s where I’ll be.” He’d stay for as long as Sho wanted him to. “Now aim for that patch of grass that’s a little on your right.”

Sho did, and Jun kept readjusting his aim until it got close to perfect.

The hours passed but he didn’t take notice, and when evening came, they made their way back.

--

They would sneak out of the camp before daybreak for the next few days, meeting in the clearing and sparring after. Sho was improving, little by little, but Jun knew he’d never be battle-hardened.

Not that Jun needed him to be—he only needed Sho to learn enough that he could hold his own on the field, at least before his royal guard had him surrounded. Keeping Sho was alive was top priority and that went without saying for every member of his army.

They’d return to camp once the Hamali sun has begun blanketing half of the camp, the smooth surfaces of the domes shining under the light. The rest of the day would be spent refining strategies and checking equipment. Jun had done three armory inventories while Sho had spoken with Ohno and Aiba for hours in private.

Nights were spent with Sho sharing what he deemed Jun ought to know. They’d strategize till the hours turn late and sleep later, when the entire camp had fallen silent.

But one night Jun woke up from a terrible dream of reliving his last day in Saiph, and when he sat up to blink sleep from his eyes, he couldn’t see Sho on the bed.

Panic immediately set in, and Jun grabbed his phasers and left the bedroom. He searched the entire dome and found no trace of Sho, and he proceeded to head out.

The chronometer had told him it was hours past midnight and a few hours before dawn. If Sho would leave, where would he go?

Jun made a mental note to ask for a tracking dot from Ohno as soon as he returned. He’d affix it into Sho’s belt and hopefully the man wouldn’t notice. Sho would be completely unreasonable to deal with by then, provided Jun located his whereabouts now.

Sho wasn’t in the spaceport. The spaceport had shipyard workers getting their well-earned rest, their bodies draped over tables, some taking a nap on the benches. There were rows of sleeping bags, and Jun took one sweep with his eyes around the area before he moved on.

Sho wasn’t in the storage domes either. Jun only checked the one closest to their dome since he already felt pressed for time. He was on his way to the artillery when he thought of the clearing close to the edge of the camp.

“Matsumoto,” Ohno’s voice said from behind him, and he nearly pulled a muscle with how fast he’d whipped his neck. “What are you doing here?”

Jun could ask him the same, but there was no time. “I need a speeder,” he said. “Where can I get one?”

Ohno frowned for a moment. Then: “Is Sho-kun gone?”

He was more perceptive than Jun had thought.

“I know where he is,” Jun said. “Probably.”

“I have a speeder,” Ohno said. “Come.”

Ohno made no mention of where they were going, but the storage dome close to Ohno’s division was looming before Jun in a matter of seconds. Ohno tinkered with the console to be permitted entry, and when he spoke, it was after he’d given Jun the keys to his speeder as well the permission to use it with a tilt of his chin.

“I recently got in refueled,” Ohno said.

“Why are you awake at this hour?” Jun asked. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Ohno looked like he needed more sleep, but his expression turned serious. “A transmission came from Nino as a warning. He intercepted a transmission from an outer channel while doing reconnaissance with Daigo-kun, and if Sho-kun’s missing, he probably received the same transmission Nino was talking about.”

“What transmission?” Jun asked, beginning to feel dread.

“Your planet has declared Hamal hostile,” Ohno said. “If we win this war, there’ll be another one to fight.”

“Ninomiya could be wrong,” Jun said in disbelief. This was the worst timing. “He doesn’t speak my tongue.”

And yet, Jun remembered.

Speaking is different from understanding a little, Ninomiya had once said.

“But Daigo-kun does,” Ohno said. Jun had no rebuff for that anymore. Ohno walked towards the doors once more, operating the console to keep them open long enough for Jun. “If you know where he might be, bring him back.”

“My planet declared war and you think he’ll come with me willingly?” Jun asked, though he found himself hoping for the same. Sho needed allies now, and if Jun could be the closest one he’s got, Jun wouldn’t be averse to it.

“I think you can bring him back. You’ve already done it twice,” Ohno said. “Go.”

Jun twisted the accelerator and sped away, the cool breeze of the night hitting his face. He wished he had goggles like Ohno, but he settled for squinting his eyes as he passed through different areas of the camp until he reached the uphill path that led to the clearing.

Even from this distance, Jun could already see a saber powered on, could hear its faint buzz as it got swung from left to right and back again.

Jun decelerated and parked the speeder beside a nearby tree, a few feet away from where Sho stood. He left the speeder on hover before climbing off it, his boots crushing grass as he approached Sho.

“A speeder, really?” Sho asked. “Was my disappearance so urgent that you had to? Is that Satoshi-kun’s?”

“Yes,” Jun said. “Yes, and yes.”

Sho faced him, and despite the dark surrounding them, the moon permitted Jun to see the light sheen of sweat on Sho’s face. He’d been here for hours, training on his own. How long had he been doing that? Did he slip back inside the camp just before Jun woke, already having an estimate of Jun’s sleep cycle?

“You’ve heard, then,” Sho concluded. He put the saber between them, and Jun frowned at it, confused. “Have you come to kill me?”

“What?”

“You know of the transmission. Were you sent here by the Saiphan princess to spy on me for months and to eliminate me when the opportunity presents itself?” Sho’s features were schooled to impassiveness, but Jun was no longer fooled by it. “Without me, Hamal doesn’t stand a chance.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” Jun said, annoyed now. “Do you think I’d ask for Ohno’s speeder if my plan was to murder you tonight?”

“You could’ve simply stolen that speeder,” Sho said. “Well? Come and try then. I’ve been preparing myself for the past few days.”

“I’m not here to kill you!” Jun hissed.

“Then why are you here?!” Sho demanded, his voice rising in pitch as well.

“I came to find you!”

Sho scoffed. “Never let it be said that you can’t play the part, Matsumoto. You did so well. I almost believed it.”

Jun stepped forward and he didn’t miss how Sho’s grip on the saber tightened. He took another step until he could feel the heat emitted by the tip of the weapon, and said, “I taught you where to hit. Where it hurts, where it can kill. If you think I was sent here to kill you, strike.”

Then in a moment of what could perhaps constitute as madness, Jun pulled his phaser free frin its holster and tossed it to the ground.

He closed his eyes.

Breathing came easy. If Sho struck, he had nothing to lose. A man who had nothing had nothing to lose. He’d already lost everything.

He heard the saber being turned off, and he opened his eyes to Sho’s back turned on him.

“Why,” Sho said weakly, voice almost a whisper, “do you always come whenever I need you? Even when I don’t ask for it. Even when I don’t want it anymore. You always find me.”

Jun had no response for that; he couldn’t explain it either. In his gut, he’d known Sho couldn’t have fled from the camp on his own and done something unpredictable and likely stupid. After only a few failed searches, he’d known where to go, what he’d likely find.

He didn’t need the tracking dot. He’d found Sho in the middle of a city that he hadn’t been to before.

Jun could find him anywhere.

“You’re not alone anymore,” was all he said. The wind whistled against his ears and his skin turned to gooseflesh, but he remained where he was, standing in the middle of a barren field, his only weapon lying discarded at his feet.

“After I fight my own planet, I have to defend it,” Sho said. “I will lose men in the upcoming war. Men that I know. Some women I barely knew.”

Jun bent down to pick up the phaser, tucking it inside its holster once more.

“You won’t lose me,” Jun told him. He didn’t know if that was enough. He had nothing else to offer but himself.

Sho looked over his shoulder, and in the darkness surrounding them, Jun couldn’t make out his expression.

“Yes I will,” Sho said, and Jun detected an edge to his voice. “I will once I’m emperor.”

It was the truth. Jun couldn’t explain the sudden constriction he felt in his chest—he knew what he had to do once Sho was emperor. When Sho assumed that position, someone like Jun couldn’t stay by his side anymore.

The flicker of hurt that he sensed was a surprise.

“But until then,” Jun said, “I’ll be here.”

The clouds obscuring half of the moon shifted, and they were soon bathed in moonlight. It left shadows on Sho’s face, and Jun finally saw the vulnerability in Sho’s expression.

He could offer no comfort. At least not in the usual ways.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Back to camp?” Sho asked. He didn’t seem like he’d object.

“No. Not yet.” They still had time before dawn broke. Jun gestured to the speeder. “Tell me about this planet. I’ve been here for months and there’s still much I don’t know.”

If I could take you away from here, Jun thought, I would. If, for a moment, you can forget what he have to face, I’d be grateful.

Sho looked at the speeder and said, “All right.”

Jun let Sho gather his things as he climbed on the speeder, and he brought it closer to where Sho stood. Sho now had the saber strapped to his belt, and Jun offered him his hand.

“I still smell like sweat and exertion,” Sho said with a scrunch of his nose.

Jun shrugged his shoulders. “I’m used to it. Thanks to the past few days.”

“You can’t complain once I climb aboard,” Sho said, taking his hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jun said lightly, pulling him up.

There was a slight descent as the speeder bore the weights of two men, and Jun twisted the accelerator in preparation.

“Hold on to me,” he said.

Sho didn’t. He remained motionless behind Jun, and when Jun glanced over his shoulder, he saw Sho quirking an eyebrow. Even at night, he couldn’t mistake that. “Do you even know where to go?”

“No,” Jun admitted. “But that’s what you’re here for.”

“We go east then,” Sho said, lifting a hand to point Jun to the right direction. “Past those cliffs, and close to the beach. There is an old mining station a hundred feet from there.”

Then Jun felt arms slipping around his waist, Sho’s hands clasping together in the middle, and he let the engine roar to life.

--

They returned to camp before the sun reached the height that’d cover the entire camp in its shine. Ohno was waiting for them, standing at the entrance to their dome as Jun pulled the speeder to a stop.

“Go ask the shipyard for fuel,” Sho said as he climbed off. “Sorry, Satoshi-kun. We may have used a little more than we should have.”

“No matter,” Ohno said.

“Come. Let’s talk inside,” Sho said, and they left.

Jun took the speeder to the shipyard, intending to find Kazama, but instead found Yoko stretching at its entryway. Yoko almost immediately froze upon the sight of him.

“What are you doing here?” Yoko demanded, expression skeptical.

“I didn’t come here looking for a fight,” Jun said immediately. “Your emperor asked me to refuel this speeder. Is Kazama in?”

Yoko clucked his tongue but spun on his heel and said, “I handle the fuels now. Come take that speeder inside.”

Jun powered off the speeder and got off it, guiding it inside. He saw the surroundings he’d seen before, except that most ships were at the spaceport now. There were few remodels going on, but the shipyard was no longer a parking ground for spacecrafts. It looked like a repair station with all the discarded parts and unfinished platings.

“Here,” Yoko said, gesturing to a stack of fuel cells, and behind him, Jun could see rows upon rows of it. Ikuta had returned successful then. “Do you know how to install those?”

“Not as well as you do,” Jun said, grabbing as many as he needed.

“You’re a pain,” Yoko said, but he took one cell and started helping Jun with the refuel.

Jun was a little wary; the last time he’d worked together with Yoko, it ended in an altercation.

He chose to keep silent as he worked. He was slower in affixing a cell in its proper place, and Yoko was doing most of the work.

“I heard that you saved his life,” Yoko said, not quite looking at him.

“I did,” Jun said.

“Didn’t mean what I said then,” Yoko mumbled, but Jun caught it. “You just pissed me off back then.”

“I think I pissed off a lot of people back then,” Jun acknowledged. “Your emperor included.”

“They said you’re acting as a decoy,” Yoko said. It was his way of asking, perhaps.

“I am.”

“Bring back that ship.”

Jun smiled and nodded. “I plan to.”

“If she takes fire, bring her back still.” Yoko didn’t glance at him, eyes on the fuel cell he was attaching to the speeder. “I’ll fix her along with the others.”

“Got it,” Jun said. He attached the last cell and got to his feet. “Thank you.”

Yoko offered his hand, and when Jun stared at it, he rolled his eyes. “This is the only time.”

Jun smiled and took it, and he let bygones be bygones.

--

They left the outskirts at the end of that week, after Ninomiya and Daigo’s transmission came and confirmed that the army from Sheratan had begun its march. Jun took Otonoha and flew her with Keiko as his navigator, and they were flanked by Ohno and Aiba’s ships. As a precaution, they had Sho ride with Ohno, which Sho had only agreed to do after Keiko had come to tell him off.

Lucida Ventris, unlike the outskirts, had a bit of overgrowth. Untrimmed grass lined its fields, adding a rather dull shade of green when viewed from above. The fortress was constructed with neutronium and polished Hamali ore, standing thousands of feet tall, and its gates opened once their fleet had made itself known through the communication channel.

Jun parked Otonoha close to the exit; he and Ninomiya would have to use it again in a matter of days. He found Sho in the midst of a hundred men and women standing at the inner ward of the keep and stood by his side.

“Took you long enough,” Sho said, but he didn’t seem angry. He looked out, his eyes scanning faces, perhaps committing them to memory.

“Parking problems,” Jun said. He watched as the men and women gathered themselves into lines, and he turned when he heard the doors of the keep swoosh open, revealing a man who looked older and stood taller than Jun.

“Sho-kun,” he said, with an air of familiarity. “It’s been years. Your face has gotten rounder.”

“And you look thinner. Do you even eat?” Sho asked, but there was a smile on his face.

“I will since you’ve arrived,” the man said.

“Matsumoto, this is Iseya, the guardian of the keep. He’s been acting as its lord in my absence. Iseya-kun, my bodyguard.”

“The Saiphan I’ve been hearing so much about,” Iseya said. “You’re the first Saiphan to step foot inside this keep. I hope you’re the last.”

“I hope so too,” Jun said.

“Show me what you’ve gathered for the past week,” Sho said to Iseya, who nodded and led the way. Sho turned to Ohno and said, “Tonight, we rest. Have the kitchens prepare food for every man and woman, and have your men start assembling tents. We can’t fit in the keep.”

“Understood,” Ohno said, and he began giving out orders.

Jun followed Sho and Iseya, walking at a pace behind them. Inside the keep, the halls were sparsely decorated since it hardly had visitors, and he and Sho were led to a hall that had holograms powered on.

Iseya began to speak. “The army from Sheratan consists of the Empress’ guard—”

“Former Empress’ guard,” Sho corrected. “They’re traitors now.”

Iseya tilted his head in acceptance and continued, “—as well as the armies of the challengers to the throne. That’s roughly twelve thousand. Two thousand more than what you have.”

“But I have this fortress,” Sho said. “How many ships?”

“Half of their number,” Iseya reported.

Sho gave Jun a look, and Jun understood what it meant: he had to reduce that number further.

He only nodded, and Sho faced Iseya once more. “What else?”

“You’ve been declared a public enemy in Hamal, but the cities are divided. Some in support of the crown, some supporting your rightful claim to it.”

“If I win, I can unify these cities,” Sho said. “Any news about my mother?”

Jun could detect from Sho’s voice that it had been the first question Sho had wanted to ask.

“Your sister sent an encrypted transmission here, telling me to decrypt it before you arrive here. She knew this is where you’d go. Your mother lives still.”

Sho exhaled and told Jun, “Find a servant and have my quarters prepared.”

Jun knew it was Sho’s way of dismissing him, and this time, he was agreeable. Iseya looked like he’d known Sho for years.

“They were already prepared, Sho-kun,” Iseya said.

“For one man,” Sho told him. “Where did you expect my bodyguard to sleep?”

Iseya smiled. “In a tent outside? No one’s going to try to kill you here.”

“Regardless,” Sho said stubbornly. To Jun: “Go.”

Jun departed, and he managed to locate one servant who trembled upon seeing him. He must’ve been the first Saiphan she’d seen in her life. He had to reassure her that he wouldn’t harm her and pointed to his badge before giving her Sho’s orders. She nodded repeatedly and left with haste, and Jun had to ask another servant to take him to Sho’s quarters so he could inspect it.

The servants kept their heads down as they shuffled about, but they allowed Jun to do his inspections without interruptions. A mattress was placed at the foot of the bed for Jun, and he noted that the room wasn’t so different from Denebia’s. There were security cameras at the receiving room adjacent to the bedroom, as well as in the corridor that led to the chamber.

By nightfall, Ninomiya and Daigo returned just in time for dinner. Sho ordered for all the food to be brought outside, for everybody to mingle with their comrades in arms. Sho dined with the leaders of his army, including General Ishihara, the five of them gathered around the table closest to the keep. To his far right, Jun saw Ninomiya making the men from Aiba’s sentry laugh, as well as those who came from Ohno’s division. When Ninomiya approached him, he held his hand out.

“May I borrow my cards?” Ninomiya asked, and he’d stressed out the ‘my’. “Got some people I need to impress.”

Jun pulled the deck from trousers and followed Ninomiya to where he’d gathered a couple of men and Denebian women. He watched as Ninomiya made cards disappear and reappear, each trick different for each person. He never seemed to run out.

When it was late and most people had returned to their tents, Ninomiya offered to play one round of cards with him. The same one they’d played long ago, and Jun accepted. He’d gotten better; he’d used the entirety of their trip to Denebia as practice.

Ninomiya dealt and they were into the game when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“They’ll be setting up explosives tomorrow in the cave,” he told Jun. “That’ll take about a day, perhaps. We leave the day after. I’ve already scouted the terrain and I know where to go and to hide, so it should be easy provided you can fly us steadily.”

“Are you belittling my skills now?” Jun asked with a small smile.

“Come now, I only belittle you when there are cards between us,” Ninomiya said with a chuckle. “How’s the princeling?”

Jun was confused. “What do you mean ‘how’?”

“There are whispers in this camp. Some of his men wonder how he’s taking it since his mother has fallen ill and he has a war to fight. Some say they don’t want to be in his shoes despite his wealth and status.” Ninomiya looked at him, past the cards that he held in his small hands. “How is he really?”

“I don’t know,” Jun said. “I never saw him break.”

It was a lie—he did see. But there were things that had been only for him.

Ninomiya hummed, and he was down to three cards while Jun still had a few more. “What are you going to do after this?”

“After what?”

“Whether we win or we lose, I don’t think you’ll die. You survived too long to not let that happen. What are your plans after this?”

Jun couldn’t lie to him, not again after doing it earlier. “I’ll go home.”

“And where is that?” Ninomiya asked.

Past Ninomiya’s shoulders, he could see Sho, still seated in the table he shared with Ohno and the others. Sho had ordered for fires to be lit out of tradition, and with the flames reflected in his eyes, Jun could look nowhere else.

“Fifty-seven light years away,” Jun muttered. The distance felt too far.

“Are you going to help your planet invade his?” Ninomiya asked. There was a knowing look in his eyes, like he knew exactly where Jun was looking—had been looking since.

“I’m going to stop my planet from invading his,” Jun said, determined. “I don’t know how yet. But I will.”

“Does he know?” Ninomiya asked, eyes on his now.

“Yes. I gave him my word that I’ll stop it. I don’t think he believed me though.”

Ninomiya shook his head. “Not that.” Jun blinked in confusion when he smiled. “He doesn’t, huh. You should consider letting him know before you go. In case you’ll never see him again.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Jun said. His mind was no longer in the game, and he folded and admitted defeat before he could make a fool of himself further.

Ninomiya didn’t utter a word more, but Jun thought he no longer had to. He already knew enough.

--

He and Ninomiya left the fortress two days later, and the only words Sho had said to him before he headed out to the courtyard to climb onboard Otonoha were “You made me a promise.”

“And I intend to keep it,” Jun had said.

They cloaked the ship as soon as they detected the armada, still thousands of miles away from Lucida Ventris. Ninomiya mapped out a route that would allow them to zigzag and dash through the center of the fleet and back out, and he gave Jun an almost pleased look.

“She’s all yours, Matsumoto,” he said.

“Jun.”

Ninomiya blinked, but he already had a smile creeping on his face as he understood. “Then call me Nino, Jun-kun. Let’s go break their formations.”

It wasn’t easy. They disabled the cloaking and accepted the hail, and Nino snorted when it asked for their surrender. Whoever spoke was directly addressing Sho.

“At least they believe it,” Nino muttered, too quiet for the frequencies to pick up. Then to the communications device: “We decline, but thank you for offering.”

His sudden politeness made Jun laugh, some of his tension disappearing. He felt calmer and he held the joystick with stable hands, maneuvering the ship according to Nino’s calculations.

“Leave the guns to me,” Nino said as soon as the fleet started firing upon them, and Jun focused on evasive maneuvers while sticking to their path. He let Nino return fire, actually bringing down a couple of ships in the process.

He kept his hands tight on the joystick, his eyes on the view before them. He couldn’t falter now. He had to make it through the ridge, through the forest, through the cave, and back.

He had to return. He’d promised.

“Their army on land is way ahead of their ships,” Jun noted.

“Captain had the men ready when we were leaving,” Nino said. “But we have to warn them.”

Jun addressed Otonoha’s AI and ordered her to draft a recorded transmission and have it sent straight to Sho’s communicator. “They’ll make contact in a matter of hours. You have to enable defenses now.”

He ended the recording and had it sent, just as they sustained a blow in their hull that shook the ship.

“Shields at sixty-eight percent,” Nino said. “What the fuck was that that hit us?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t let it hit us again,” Jun said. He pulled the parking brake to do a sharp turn, and ahead, he saw the ridge that Aiba had mentioned. “Hold on tight.”

“Where do you think my hands are, Jun-kun?”

Jun no longer had the chance to comment on that. He had to tilt the ship on its side, and they heard a couple of explosions behind them. They’d lost three pursuers, but the rest were still there, passing through the ridge easily since their spacecrafts were smaller in size.

“Fly lower,” Nino said.

There were jagged spikes of rocks beneath them, and Jun said, “Are you mad? We’ll be gutted.”

“No we won’t. Do it. We didn’t lose as much as we intended.”

To the ship’s AI, Jun barked, “Calculate velocity upon descent with ten percent room for error.”

The AI gave the results in a monotonous voice, and Jun pulled the lever of the accelerator towards him, the ship descending in a wide arc.

“Pull up when I say so,” Nino said. His face didn’t hide the thrill he felt.

“Feels like old days? You’re so used to being chased around,” Jun remarked.

“Lifetime of experience, Jun-kun. Even before I became a wanted swindler, I was popular with the girls at Alnitak.” Then in a serious voice: “Pull up now! Now!”

Jun did, and they heard a few crashes from where some of the ships had made impact with the rocks from below. They took another hit from a plasma cannon, and their shields were down to fifty percent.

“Full speed,” Jun said to the ship’s AI, and his back hit the chair when they had the momentum. To Nino: “Fire at will.”

Nino did, taking down a few ships in the process. The inbuilt map of Otonoha indicated that they would almost reach the cave, and the console to Jun’s right told him that they had at least sixty more ships in pursuit.

“Why are these guys so good at dodging?” Nino asked in irritation. “I’m getting really pissed here.”

In his periphery, Jun caught Nino swapping systems—his navigation console was now on his right and the defensive maneuvers now on his left. He opened fire again, and Jun noticed that the ships behind them started to decrease in number.

“Should’ve used the left hand earlier,” Jun said, smiling. They had a chance. They were soaring through the woods Jun had seen in the hologram, which meant that they were almost at the cave.

“The left hand is reserved for times like this,” Nino told him. “Bet they weren’t expecting that.”

The underground cave’s entrance was dark and unwelcoming, but Jun had no time to admire it. He lowered the ship according to their calculations, wincing when he heard the stalactites scrape against their plating, causing a brief turbulence.

“Steady,” Nino said, and he opened fire again, causing small rockslides that only slowed down their pursuers. “We have to make it.”

“We will make it,” Jun told him. On the other side was the fortress, the army—Sho.

Sho, who was waiting for him.

They took another hit that send the ship staggering, their shields down to eighteen percent. Whatever hit them was powerful; they couldn’t survive another blow like that.

Jun diverted all power to the ship’s thrusters, no longer caring if he left scratches on her surface. He could see the end of the tunnel, and Otonoha detected the explosives placed on the sides of the exit.

“Don’t miss,” Jun said to Nino. If Nino missed, they’d be trapped in here since Ohno and the others would be the ones who’d trigger the explosion. He couldn’t afford to let that happen, but it was out of his hands now.

“Don’t insult me,” Nino said, and Jun held his breath as Nino directed the ship’s guns to the switches and fired in succession, triggering a chain reaction.

For a moment, they were blanketed in a sea of fire. Jun heard nothing but the explosives going off one-by-one, and he pushed the accelerator to maximum to fly through it. Their shields were down and the ship was taking heavy damage, its emergency lights now powered on.

The safety protocols of the ship were activated, and for a moment, Jun thought it was all over.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the walls of the fortress. The ship was unstable but she stayed afloat, and just as the five-second window was over, they made it inside the fortress’ shields.

They’d done it. Otonoha was rapidly losing power, but they’d done it.

He heard a chuckle to his side and saw Nino’s shoulders shaking as he laughed tiredly.

“Let’s not do that again,” Nino said.

“Agreed,” Jun said. He accepted the request for communication and registered Iseya’s voice on the other line.

“Nicely done. Is anybody hurt?”

“No,” Jun said, albeit still out of breath. “Just overwhelmed.”

A laugh. “Head down to the courtyard. We’re mobilizing the army.”

The channel closed, and Jun heard Nino sigh.

“I can’t believe we still have to fight after this. How many hours do we have?”

“Three or fewer,” Jun said. “Let’s go.” He unfastened his seatbelt and didn’t wait for Nino, striding towards the hatch and opening it. He had to jump since Otonoha hadn’t exactly touched the ground, and he was grateful that he wore knee pads.

Sho’s army was making its way out now, past the opened gates. The Denebians were the last to leave the courtyard, and Jun’s eyes searched frantically for one person as he accepted weapons handed to him by one of Ohno’s men.

He ran past the soldiers to make it closer to the gate, and he finally caught sight of thick brown hair standing beside a man with a red cape, his cybernetic arm catching light.

Sho saw him too, his expression a bit surprised despite having witnessed Otonoha enter the fortress before the shields went up. He wore armor: a neutronium plate was wrapped around his torso, but he was dressed like any other soldier. There would be no distinction on the battlefield.

“You’ve returned,” Sho said once Jun stood before him once more.

“I told you I would,” Jun said. “We’ve managed to lessen the number of their ships. Your pilots should be able to handle the rest.”

“They’re airborne now,” Ohno said, slipping his goggles over his eyes. “And I should be, too.” He looked at Jun. “Stay by his side.”

There was nowhere else Jun would rather be.

He nodded, and Ohno left with a sweep of his red cape. Jun took the spot Ohno had vacated, where he could see how the army marched. They moved in straight, neat lines, and when he checked the watchtowers, he saw their cannons being manned by a combination of Aiba and Ohno’s men.

“Where is Ninomiya?” Sho asked.

“He was just behind me when I got off the ship,” Jun said. From what he could recall, Aiba had assigned Nino to fly a spacecraft. “Think he’s off to the skies now since Ohno’s out there already.”

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Sho suddenly asked. There was a hint of worry in his tone. “Okada-kun’s got the infirmary ready, there are—”

“I’m fine,” Jun said. The adrenaline still pulsed within him. “Iseya told you the same.”

“Hearing is not the same as seeing,” Sho said, and Jun tried not to smile at the reality that Sho had taken a good look at him when he’d been doing the same. “You got them.”

“We did,” Jun affirmed. “Nino is an excellent marksman.”

“He’s a man of many talents,” Sho acknowledged. “What did it look like?”

“I would assume those were the finest ships the royal army has to offer,” Jun reported. “We’ve had the same models in Saiph a few years back, but most of them were sold to different planets after we upgraded our military provisions. Comparing to the ships you have at your disposal, you have a chance. If the men piloting those ships are half as good as Nino, they can bring them down.”

“You mean you,” Sho said.

“What?”

“If Satoshi-kun’s pilots are half as good as you, then we have a chance.”

Jun had never had his skills acknowledged outright by Sho, and he didn’t know what to say.

“And the army on land?” Sho asked after a moment.

“We didn’t see them. They used one or both of the alternate routes,” Jun said. “They’re covering ground as we speak, and Nino and I estimated it to be mere hours before they make it here.”

“Then we are ready for them,” Sho said with conviction. He pulled his saber free from his belt, its metal handle held tight in his hand. He didn’t power it on, but Jun knew he would soon. “Come. We must go where the others are.”

“Wait,” Jun said, his hand encircling Sho’s elbow.

Sho appeared stunned but he blinked back the expression quickly. He took a look at Jun and his mouth parted open, only for him to shut it again.

“I—” Jun tried, but Sho shook his head.

“When this is over,” Sho told him. “When there’s no war between us.”

“That will never happen,” Jun found himself saying. After this, there was Saiph to worry about.

Jun feared there would never be another time.

The look on Sho’s face softened. “Then when this war is over, come find me again. That shouldn’t be impossible for you; you always know where to go.”

“All right,” Jun acquiesced, his grip on Sho slackening even if something inside him screamed not to.

“Come,” Sho said, moving to leave.

Like always, Jun followed.

--

They arrived just as the sun reached its peak. The royal army of Hamal marched into neat lines a thousand paces away from theirs, and on Sho’s signal, the three of them—Sho, him, and Keiko—moved their speeders to meet the councilman that waited for them at the middle of the field.

Judging from his looks, he appeared to be Inamine. Jun’s father had him learn all the names and characteristics of each Hamali council member, just in case. From what Jun could recall, Inamine was stubborn and hotheaded, a war veteran.

“Councilman,” Sho said coolly, climbing off his speeder. Jun and Keiko did the same, standing by his sides. “I didn’t think you’d come all the way here.”

“I see you’ve claimed the fortress of Lucida Ventris for yourself,” Inamine said. He stood taller than all of them, a hulking figure with a stern, hard expression. He had a scar that bisected the corner of his lips.

“There’s nothing to claim,” Sho said. “Lucida Ventris is mine by birthright. As the lord of this city and the lands surrounding it, I ask that you take your army and leave.”

“You would ask me to surrender?” Inamine laughed mockingly, and Jun caught the hardening of Keiko’s expression. “You’ve never fought in a war before. You can barely lift a saber!”

“This is your last chance,” Sho said, not losing his temper. It occurred to Jun that Sho had grown up with this kind of treatment, interacting with people who had no faith in his abilities. How many of them had told him he’d be unfit to rule? “Go before you lose face, before your army’s reputation deteriorates further.”

“Further?” Inamine was frowning now, and he appeared menacing. The other men beside him bore the same expression—the leaders of the army that challenged the Empress’ rule.

Sho inclined his head in mock thought. “You’re sworn to protect my mother from bodily harm and almost a month ago, you failed. Everyone in Hamal knows it. When I become emperor, I will have no need for incompetent men like you.”

“You will never be emperor,” Inamine said with gritted teeth. He spat on the ground at Sho’s feet and shouted to the rest of his men: “They refuse our offer to parley! Prepare for battle!”

They heard a chorus of men’s war cries, of the safety feature of phasers being switched off. Jun looked out and saw bloodthirsty soldiers who might not even know that they were fighting for the wrong side.

“So be it,” Sho said. “You are charged with treason against the crown and will be branded oathbreaker for failing to hold the throne in good will. You will receive no pardon should you survive.”

Inamine sneered at Sho and made his way back to his men. “You will never win. You’ve never won in your life.”

Sho climbed on his speeder and said to Keiko, “Tell Ohno that now’s the time.”

Keiko gave him a look of surprise.

“Have you gone mad?” Jun asked out of the corner of his mouth. “We’re still in the field. At least wait until we’re back in the lines.”

“No. Now, Keiko-chan. He will understand,” Sho said. “We go back.”

Keiko spoke to her communicator for a few seconds and moved her speeder at the same time as Sho drove his, Jun a few beats late. They sped back to where Aiba and his men were just as Jun heard blasts and screams and the soaring of spacecrafts overhead.

The explosions that colored the sky as soon as Ohno led the charge looked like fireworks. Ohno and the rest of his pilots were firing at spacecrafts and at the army on land alike, and Jun saw a missile from a massive cannon take down one of their ships.

When Sho gave the signal, they made the charge on land. Jun leaned forward as he sped through lines upon lines, firing upon anyone who bore colors other than Sho’s striking red. Ahead, he saw Keiko flanking Sho’s side, her speeder colliding with another, and she was sent to ground.

Jun stopped thinking. He moved as his body dictated, allowed his instinct to take over. When his speeder took fire and he had to jump off it, he drew out his phasers and began shooting. Straighten your arm, don’t close one eye, relax your shoulder. Keiko’s words had resonated in him, and with each shot he fired, he saw a man fall.

He saw Sho then, fighting ahead, surrounded by Denebian and Hamali soldiers. There was a bleeding gash on his left cheek as he brought down a man who came too close with a swing of his saber. Jun made his way to Sho and shot at whoever tried to stop him.

Once he reached Sho’s side, he demanded, “Who cut you?”

“No matter; I got him,” was Sho’s response.

“Stay close to me,” Jun said, and he began shooting at whoever wanted to make their way to Sho. In his periphery, he saw a flurry of fluid movements, and he couldn’t help smiling when he realized it was Kiko and her double-edged saber, bringing down whoever came too close to her with a storm of slashes.

Her sabers were dancing. Soldiers fell like nothing as she moved, and Jun saw how their men gathered more courage when they saw her. The Denebians were letting out cries that kept them moving onward, and Jun saw a couple of royal soldiers flying. He spotted a red cybernetic arm as the cause, and he pulled out his saber to power it on, hacking and slashing at the men charging at them.

“He’s coming for me,” Sho said, and Jun followed his line of sight. He saw Inamine, steadily advancing towards them, a fierce look in his eyes.

“Leave him to me,” Jun said.

He felt a tug on his elbow, and he saw fear in Sho’s expression.

“He will kill you,” Sho said.

“He won’t. I won’t let him,” Jun said. “I made you a promise. I’m not breaking that.”

He managed to shrug off Sho’s hold on him and said to the closest Denebian, “Stay by his side until I get back.”

The Denebian nodded, taking his place as Jun met Inamine in the field. He had his saber ready and he skidded as it made contact with Inamine’s own. The man was pure force and stamina, and he laughed at Jun straightening his trunk to brace himself for another blow.

“I’ve heard of you,” Inamine said. “The Saiphan who took his place beside a fraudulent heir. You betray your own planet by standing with him. Do you think he’ll spare your planet once this is over? He’ll ask you to kill your own people, just like what he’s doing now.”

“You forced his hand,” Jun said, evading a slash that aimed for his head. “He’s not the enemy I was made to believe—you are. And whoever you’re working for.”

“I’ll kill him after I kill you,” Inamine said.

Jun ducked and swung but overestimated, and he was sent staggering when Inamine backhanded him. He tasted blood—thick and metallic, flooding his mouth. He spat and lunged, and he managed to wound Inamine’s side.

It wasn’t enough to incapacitate but enough to anger, and Jun sidestepped and parried some of the blows that were meant to kill him. His arm was beginning to ache but he held on, putting force on his shoulder so he could push back a man nearly twice his size.

A deflect in one of his attacks followed by a punch to his gut sent him back, but he only allowed himself to not take more than three steps backwards. He was the only thing standing between this man and Sho. If he failed, Sho would be next.

Around them, he was beginning to hear cheers, and more red flooded his eyes. Sho’s colors. Sho’s bannerman, a soldier from Aiba’s sentry, kept the flag raised, and he heard Ohno yell, “Do not let them escape!”

They were winning. Inamine noticed it, too, and he made a wide arc with his saber, one that Jun barely dodged.

“Surrender,” Jun said. “It’s not too late.”

“I will never serve him,” Inamine said. He might have been incredibly skilled in his prime, but he was old and prone to anger. Emotions had no place in the battlefield. “He should have died when he was young. He was never made to become emperor.”

“Then there’s nothing more to say,” Jun told him, and he crouched to evade a blow aimed for his neck, did a feint, and held his breath.

He drove his saber through Inamine’s chest and didn’t pull out, instead twisting it to ensure his kill.

Inamine grabbed his neck and squeezed hard, and Jun buried the saber deeper. His eyes were watering and he couldn’t breathe, but after a beat, he felt the grip around his windpipe slackening and he pushed the dead body off him.

He’d lose to Kiko but not to anyone else in a swordfight.

He scanned the field and saw that Sho’s colors overwhelmed the invaders. He looked up and found their some of their ships still engaged in a shootout, but the enemy ships had decreased in number. Combined with Jun’s efforts with Nino earlier, the skies above them would soon be be Sho’s as well.

Jun pushed past the soldiers to find Sho, and he saw him with Keiko who now hefted a plasma gun over her shoulder. She didn’t miss when she pulled the trigger, sending dozens of men to the ground. He made his way over, and Sho gave him one look from head to foot.

“You’re bleeding,” Sho said, looking at his mouth.

“He’s dead,” Jun said. His eyes did a quick sweep of the field. “You’re winning.”

“I know,” Sho said. They were soon joined by Ohno whose cape was in tatters, a crack on the surface of his goggles. “Satoshi-kun. It’s time to call for a surrender.”

Ohno merely nodded. He raised his cybernetic arm and from the fortress walls, a prerecorded transmission could be heard, offering pardon for those who choose to surrender.

“Their leader is dead,” Sho said. “They can choose to follow me or him.”

Little by little, Jun saw the shift. The men fighting against them seemed to have realized that their most prominent warrior was dead and they began lowering their weapons. Some dropped their sabers and raised their hands in surrender while others fled. Sho gave the order to pursue those who ran, and Keiko called on the Denebians for the task. She joined them after procuring a speeder for herself and they separated from what remained of Sho’s army.

“I want tonight to be a night of paying respects to our dead. All of them, including those part of the royal guard,” Sho said to Ohno. “Tomorrow, we send them to the stars.”

Ohno gave a nod, and Jun saw him looking at the field. At the bodies that had piled, some on top of another. Most were of their enemy’s, but some were men Ohno had personally trained. Jun might not remember their names, but he could recall their faces.

The Hamali tradition was that they send their dead to become one with their ancestors according to one of their old legends. Somewhere in space, the dust that had once formed the Old World still existed. The Hamali cremate their dead and scatter the ashes into space since they believe that their people would return to stardust.

There was a hard look in Sho’s eyes, his breaths coming out rushed.

“You’ve done it,” Jun told him.

“Have I?” Sho asked, sounding detached. “It’s a strange thing. I don’t know how winning feels. I’ve never been victorious over anything before.”

This, Jun realized, was the first time Sho had truly won. Against the play for his life, against the play for his crown.

You’ve never won in your life, Inamine had said.

“This is yours,” Jun said. “Your victory for your crown, for your people. You’re emperor now.”

Sho looked at him, and perhaps, in this moment, they may have been thinking of the same thing.

If they had more time, something would’ve happened. But Aiba was making his way towards them on a speeder, which he offered to Sho after climbing off it.

“We’ll handle the rest,” Aiba said. “You should send a transmission to Sheratan. The princess would want to know.”

Sho locked gazes with him, and Jun gave a nod. “Go,” he told Sho. “I’ll find you when I’m done here.”

Sho left smoke as he sped away, and belatedly, Jun thought that he hadn’t properly addressed the new emperor of Hamal. A glance at Aiba’s expression told him that Aiba had noticed.

Jun cleared his throat. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Follow me,” Aiba said and Jun allowed himself to be led away from most of the carnage. “Most of them have surrendered, but our men are still scattered and we can’t contain them.” Aiba gave him a look. “I saw you kill the councilman.”

“He would never have surrendered,” Jun said. “Though I gave him the option.”

“No, I know,” Aiba said. “I knew him. He was honed by the past wars and missed the thrill, always looking for a fight. He would have killed Sho-chan.”

Jun said nothing. He didn’t know what to feel. All he knew was that he’d killed men he’d never known and only met today, just so none of them could lay a hand on Sho. That had been the only thing in his mind.

Nothing else had mattered.

Around them, the soldiers began to cheer Sho’s name. Some called him Emperor Sho of Hamal, others cheered for His Majesty, and as the sun began its descent into the afternoon, Jun knew his time was almost up.



FOLLOW THE LINK to Part 3