Tytania:Volume 2 Chapter 6

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Chapter 6 – A Stranger in the Desert

I

Planet Bargash lay at the heart of the Frontier Sector. While this may not strictly be true from a physical geographical perspective, it was an entirely accurate assessment from a sociocultural standpoint; communications, passenger transport, the distribution of goods, finance, information, the training and employment of personnel—in short, the vast majority of socio-economic activities within the Frontier Sector were conducted with this planet as their hub.

Although the sophistication and elegance of the planet Ementhal were absent here, a wild vitality permeated the very fabric of the planet, right down to the molecular level. The diplomacy and strategic manoeuvres centred on this planet are also rather crude, the sort that the people of Ementhal derided as “a club in the right hand, a wad of banknotes in the left”. That said, whether it be diplomacy by intimidation or diplomacy through financial influence, a certain degree of formality and protocol was still required, and the sovereignty of planet Bargash had been respected by others. Duke Zarlisch Tytania’s approach to ignore this and run roughshod over the planet by force could hardly be commended.

“Bargash is not Duke Zarlisch Tytania’s fief. We must insist that at the very least he shows respect for the flag of Bargash.”

It was Donald Farah who received this request from the Bargash Government Office.

Donald Farah had long since resigned himself to the fact that the Tytania faction would prevail in the Bargash delegate elections. Every political and social factor were pushing his efforts in an unfavourable direction.

Although the inhabitants of Bargash generally accepted Tytania’s rule, they did not revere her as an omnipotent deity; consequently, if she were to flaunt her power too openly, they would inevitably feel compelled to resist. Fully aware of this, Farah initially devised various strategies in an attempt to temper Zarlisch’s belligerent fervour, but he was forced to realise that it was an impossible task. With tears of regret, he abandoned his battlefield, drowned his sorrows in drink, and, after beating Zarlisch half to death in his imagination, left planet Bargash.

As for Zarlisch, he did not give a second thought to the troubles or resentment of someone as insignificant as Farah. His mind was occupied solely with saving face before Clanner Ajman and appeasing his mother’s fury. He was convinced that the wrath of a mere provincial planetary government could be quelled by Tytania’s authority and financial might.

He spurred his subordinates on to search for the fugitive, Fan Hyulick. And finally, they succeeded in locating him. It happened on the 7^th of October.

“A special operations vessel in satellite orbit has taken some 400,000 photographs of the surface, and among them was this one.”

Glancing at the stereoscopic photograph presented by his aide-de-camp, Commander Granite, Duke Zarlisch Tytania exhaled deeply. The surface of the planet Bargash could not be said to have been fully colonised; a barren expanse of 40 million square kilometres, comprising cold regions, arid lands and high-altitude zones, stretched out before him. As a result of photographing every 10-kilometre square and analysing the images by computer, signs of life had been detected in that region which was supposed to be uninhabited. This was said to be a corner of the Desert called Tarhari, where small armed groups opposed to Tytania had been known to operate for some time.

“That special operations vessel is capable of operating within the atmosphere, right?”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“Then dispatch it to that location immediately. Track down and capture Fan Hyulick. Should it prove too much to handle, even by a thin hair, send reinforcements.”

Although he spoke in hypothetical terms, “even by a thin hair”, Zarlisch’s eyes had already become a smelting furnace of passion, revealing his intention to command the fleet himself. Commander Granite, while concerned that the Bargash government’s anger and resentment would intensify, had no choice but to prioritise the wishes of his lord, Zarlisch.

Immediately stepping in front of the videophone and issuing orders to five or six locations, Duke Zarlisch gripped his grey military cap in his enormous palm and strode out of his room at the Hotel Alhambra with strides nearly twice as long as those of an ordinary man.

Doctor Lee had been in a foul mood for the past few days. Although he was no match for Duke Zarlisch Tytania, the plan to rescue Hyulick that he had painstakingly devised had evaporated at the very last moment because of a third party whose motives were unclear. Who on earth, and from where, had gone and spoiled Doctor Lee’s brilliant blueprint with such a crude stroke of the pen? It would be reasonable to assume it was a small independent faction opposed to Tytania, but it might be dangerous to jump to that conclusion.

In any case, Doctor Lee had no intention of leaving the identity of the individual or group that had outmanoeuvred him a mystery. Having finally heard from Pagès, who had returned, about the direction in which the person who had taken Fan Hyulick had fled, he was keeping a close watch on Tytania’s movements while conducting his own analysis. As long as he kept an eye on Tytania’s movements, Hyulick’s whereabouts should become clear. It was then, and this time for certain, that Doctor Lee intended to slip past Tytania’s ferocious snout and rescue Hyulick.

Mr Fan Hyulick, pursued by both friend and foe, was nowhere to be found on the surface of planet Bargash. The skies above Bargash were under almost complete air superiority by Zarlisch Tytania’s forces, and it was virtually impossible to escape this strict surveillance and encirclement. So where was he? He was, quite literally, in hiding, underground.

Beneath the Tarhari Desert lay a cavern formed by volcanic activity in the planet’s distant past. A million years ago, lava had flowed through the area, leaving behind a winding cavern that resembled the intestines of a giant dragon. It was into this cavern, near the surface, in the region corresponding to the giant dragon’s oesophagus, that Hyulick’s rescuers had carried him. The small group of about twenty men gave no particular introduction, and Hyulick, after offering a brief word of gratitude, found himself compelled to ask:

“I still haven’t heard the reason why you saved me.”

“It’s fine to ask, but why not try to work it out for yourself first?”

“Is there a reward for that?”

After replying this, Fan Hyulick was seized by an ominous suspicion. Could it be that this man had rescued him merely to claim the bounty placed on his head? Yet, even if that were the case, he had risked his life and fate to carry out the mission; his resolve and ability to act were extraordinary. For the time being, Fan Hyulick put forward a highly probable explanation.

“Someone who bears a grudge against Tytania.”

That suggested answer was met with a mixture of wry smiles and derisive sniggers.

“It’s like striking the ground with a hammer. You can’t go wrong with that.”

“So, in other words, it’s the correct answer?”

“You can’t say that. It’s an insult to the very meaning of the expression ‘correct answer’.”

The doctor, having removed his mask, appeared to be in his late thirties. He sported a black moustache beneath his nose, which resembled the bristles of a small brush. Hyulick still did not even know his benefactor’s name, and just as he was about to ask, hurried footsteps echoed from the entrance to the cavern, the area of molten lava forming the dragon’s front teeth. A man clutching an old-fashioned heat-ray rifle and clad in nondescript field uniform burst in, his face etched with tension.

“It’s a Tytania special operation vessel!”

The doctor and Hyulick stepped out to the dragon’s front teeth and looked up at the sky. The setting sun bathed their view, transforming the sky into a vast crimson silk cloth. A black shadow, resembling a monstrous bird, descended while slicing through the waves of the fiery atmosphere with its bow.

Although special-purpose ships were neither enormous nor heavily armed, this one was nonetheless over one hundred metres in length and equipped with no fewer than twenty guns. In this place and at this moment, it was a symbol of military might without equal. Turbulence caused by frictional heat enveloped the ship in faint crimson ripples, but as these faded with deceleration, Tytania’s crest emblazoned upon the hull shone out with haughty splendour.

Forgetting for a moment the situation he found himself in, Hyulick found himself transfixed by the sight. Truly, one could say that the people of Tytania, from top to bottom, were a pretentious lot.

The special operation vessel, suspended in midair, extended gun barrels from the underside of its hull. It looked as though three slender needles had been thrust into the ground, yet it was a grim harbinger of death and destruction. A moment and a half later, a portion of Fan Hyulick’s field of vision glowed. Three streaks of fire shot up from the ground.

With a deafening roar, a column of sand rose high and thick into the air. Thousands of tonnes of sand were swept into the air, obscuring the sky and the earth; when it reached the limits of gravity, it fell as a dry rain upon the very place where they had been living just moments before. The ground was shrouded in a cloud of sand, blocking out even the light of the star as it prepared to set.

The restraint in their firepower was clearly intended as a warning. They had no intention of annihilating them. Had that been their intention, they would have opened all their gun ports and concentrated their fire.

The Tytania special-purpose vessel had made its intentions clear with a single volley. It was demanding submission from those who had witnessed this. Hovering above the subsiding sandstorm, the vessel seemed to be lying in wait for the defiant rebels to emerge from the surface and prostrate themselves. The doctor clicked his tongue.

“How grand, as befitting of Zarlisch Tytania. It seems they intend to turn this entire rocky desert into a barbecue grill.”

“Are they looking for me?”

Fan Hyulick uttered this daft remark, causing his companion to roll his eyes at him.

II

The hull of the Tytania special operation vessel, hovering in the air, opened, and five shuttles, gleaming with a dull greyish-white sheen, descended to the ground. It was a sight reminiscent of silver cocoons being laid by adult insects. Amidst the settling dust cloud, the landed cocoons split open and human figures emerged.

Fully armed soldiers stepped onto the surface one after another. Even at a glance, it was clear that the force numbered at least two platoons. Although no tanks or heavily armoured vehicles were in sight, should reinforcements arrive, they might well encounter such machinery. For the time being, the mere fact that there were enough heat-ray rifles and laser guns to go round each soldier meant they constituted an overwhelming force. At the very least, it seemed unlikely that Hyulick’s benefactors—whose identities remained unknown—would be able to put up a proper fight against them.

“I heard that the ‘strategy of sheer numbers’ was Duke Zarlisch’s speciality. How shall we deal with this?”

At Hyulick’s question, the doctor groaned.

“But this is not a fief of clan Tytania. It is a sovereign state in its own right. Tytania cannot simply exercise military force as it pleases.”

“There’s no point telling me that. Go and tell Duke Zarlisch. And do so with the utmost courtesy.”

The government of planet Bargash would undoubtedly lodge a strong protest with the court of Tytania’s Clanner. But by then, it would all be over. Only the fact that the Bargash government had protested would remain in the diplomatic records. Or perhaps Tytania would pay compensation or a settlement to Bargash, and neither side would hold a grudge. As for Fan Hyulick by then, far from holding a grudge, not even a single bone of his would remain in this world.

It was the wake of an airship piercing the sky that tore apart that bleak vision of the future. As it rapidly approached the Tytania special operation vessel, it came to a halt in the air at a distance of approximately one-three-hundred-thousandth of a light-second, and transmitted a signal.

“This is the Armed Peace Force (APA) of the Bargash Government. Any person engaging in illegal or unlawful armed activities in this area will be dealt with in accordance with national law.”

The flashing signal lights were interpreted as such by Fan Hyulick’s eyes as well.

“Cease fire immediately and submit to an inspection by the authorities. I repeat, submit to an inspection immediately!”

The Tytania special operations vessel showed no reaction. It was clearly hovering in the air, displaying hesitation and indecision. It would be possible to “deal with” a mere Bargash light patrol vessel using less than half of its total destructive power, but that would constitute an act of outright hostile act towards the Bargash government. Even if Tytania were to plunge into all-out war with Bargash, it would certainly not be defeated; however, such a conflict would spell the collapse of Tytania’s foreign policy.

Tytania’s core diplomatic principle was to crush any enemy that arose without mercy, while avoiding the creation of new enemies wherever possible. This was well understood by the lower-ranking members as well. Hence, their hesitation; yet, they finally sent a signal in reply. It was a refusal.

“A Tytanian obeys only the orders of his Tytanian superiors. Your vessel should report this matter to the Government Headquarters and await further instructions. This vessel will comply solely with the orders of its superiors.”

In short, the Tytania special operations vessel feared the wrath of Duke Zarlisch more than any legal action by the Bargash Government Headquarters. And as if to shake off its own hesitation, it extended its gun barrels once more.

Adjusting the angle of the muzzles and reducing their firepower, it fired all three guns simultaneously. Thick, dark-orange streaks of fire sliced through the sky at a 20-degree depression angle, grazing the patrol vessel’s hull before exploding on the ground some five kilometres away. It was a blatantly overt act of intimidation.

“Cease fire!”

“Shut up, we won’t listen.”

Though it did not voice these words, the Tytania special operations vessel made its intentions clear through its actions. While maintaining a posture ready to continue firing warning shots at the patrol vessel, it sent orders to the infantry unit awaiting on the ground. Emerging from the cocoon that had birthed them, the infantry unit began to advance.

“They’re coming…!”

The hushed voice not only stated the fact but also conveyed the tension in his mind. They mounted their sole large-calibre machine gun on the giant dragon’s oesophagus. An old-style thermal rifle was also handed to Fan Hyulick. It was handed to him by a female soldier with short, sepia-coloured hair who was for some reason wearing a sun visor, and clad in camouflaged field uniform. She was a young woman, just over twenty, with rare gentian-blue eyes. She was beautiful, though not quite a stunner.

As a sniper, Fan Hyulick’s skill were neither particularly good nor bad. Whether in shooting practice or in actual combat, he was an unremarkable figure. Nevertheless, once the firefight began, he took careful aim and picked off the intruders.

He certainly hit one of them, but the wound did not appear to be fatal, as the enemy dropped his gun and retreated. Instead, a barrage of gunfire focused on Hyulick, and he hastily concealed his tall frame behind a rock. The enemy was using a scope, and despite being inside the cave, their shooting was extremely accurate.

Just as Hyulick was about to stand up, the sound of rapid fire rang out once more, and red and blue sparks scattered across the surface of the rock face. A ricochet grazed Fan Hyulick’s eyelashes. Under normal circumstances, he would have taken a ricochet just above the ear, and his personal history would have come to an end. But he narrowly escaped death when a woman’s voice shouted “Watch out!”, and his left wrist was grabbed and pulled away.

At that very moment, the cave was filled with a blinding, pure white light. Someone had detonated a flare. The panicked screams that followed were caused by the light destroying the amplifiers on their scopes. The Tytania infantry unit was left temporarily blinded.

In that split second, as they stood frozen in confusion, a barrage of fire from the anti-Tytania forces rained down upon them. Gunfire echoed all around, and few shots missed their mark. These were well-trained marksmen. Having suffered around ten casualties, the Tytania infantry unit was forced to retreat.

After catching his breath, Hyulick introduced himself and thanked the female soldier who had saved his life; she looked at him with interest.

“Fan Hyulick? You’re that man who’s said to be wage a war with Tytania all on his own?”

“I have no intention of waging a war. They’re setting the price on their own.”

“Well then, make sure you sell yourself for as high a price as possible. Otherwise, it would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

The young woman laughed, and as she did, an expression of astonishing vitality lit up her face. Hyulick could surmise that her beauty stemmed less from her physical features than from the vibrations of her inner vitality.

In any case, he had managed to repel the Tytania infantry unit once. This was due to the advantage of the terrain and, more importantly, the enemy’s excessive caution. From the perspective of the Tytania infantry, however, despite having scopes, they were unfamiliar with the terrain inside the cave and had no idea of the enemy’s numbers or deployment. They could well imagine the wrath of Duke Zarlisch if they were to kill Fan Hyulick by using large-calibre firearms. They decided, therefore, to retreat for the time being and devise a plan for a renewed attack.

This was, one might say, a reasonable course of action, but an unexpected sight awaited them as they emerged from the cave onto the surface. The sky looked as though it had been smeared with human blood; apart from their own mother ship and the Bargash patrol vessel, there should have been no other ships floating there, yet now a single vessel was rapidly expanding its dark silhouette. Judging by its speed and direction, it was clear that it intended to engage the Tytania special operation vessel. It was the Honest Old Man.

The ‘Honest Old Man’s’ armament was slightly inferior to that of a Tytania destroyer-class vessel, yet surpassed that of a special operation vessel. The true strength of such an arms-smuggling vessel lay in its speed and manoeuvrability, as well as the skill of its crew in handling their machinery as if it were their own steeds. It was through this that the crew of the ‘Honest Old Man’ had succeeded in assassinating Count Arses Tytania. Although this encounter took place under the unusual conditions of the atmosphere, it was a one-on-one ship-to-ship duel, and the ‘Honest Old Man’ held the upper hand in terms of firepower. Precisely for that reason, Captain Casimir was all the more cautious.

It brought to mind a duel between heavily armoured knights of the Middle Ages Not for its splendour, but quite the opposite. While they moved with complete freedom in the airless expanse of space, now, deep within the high-pressure depths of the ocean, their movements appeared almost sluggishly slow. Circling gently through the air in wide arcs, they bided their time, waiting for an opportunity to drive a spear of energy into their opponent’s vital points.

The valiant patrol vessel Bargash continued to send out frantic warning signals, but these were completely ignored by the two lawless combatants.

The first flash came from the Tytania special operation vessel. A glittering beam of energy lunged at ‘Honest Old Man’. It missed. Or rather, the ‘Honest Old Man’ had dodged it. This time, the ‘Honest Old Man’ fired a beam of its own, striking the special-purpose vessel. A white plume of smoke rose amidst a flash of light, and the special-purpose vessel appeared to stagger slightly in the air.

At that moment, four new silhouettes of ships rushed into the airspace where the one-on-one duel was taking place.

III

These were four armed vessels under the command of Doctor Lee. Through skilful coordination, they sought to form a ring of encirclement on either side of the Tytania special operation vessel.

For the Tytania special operation vessel, there was no means of escape other than to climb. Whenever it showed signs of preparing to climb, the armed vessels, having detected its intended direction, moved to intercept it. The skirmish between the two sides appeared to last quite a long time, but in reality it probably lasted less than a minute.

Having lost its escape route, the Tytania special operations vessel attempted a forced breakthrough and charged forward horizontally. With all gun ports open, it ploughed straight through the sea of atmosphere, firing in every direction. The encircling forces returned fire fiercely while dodging the enemy’s barrage.

The streams of fire tore through the crimson canvas of the sky, shattering against the hulls of those that failed to evade and scattering a mist of iridescent light. Light and flame erupted from the hull of the Honest Old Man. However, in the time it took to land a single hit, the Tytania special operations vessel had been struck by ten rounds. A chain of small fireballs encircled the special operations vessel like a band of jewels.

A garish flower of explosive light bloomed above the Tarhari Desert. It was as though the sun, having once sunk completely below the horizon, had shifted to the zenith. By the time the sound of the explosion rippled across the ground, the light had already dissipated, the resulting cloud of smoke had scattered, and the space where the special-purpose vessel had once stood had been reduced to nothing.

As fragments of the special-purpose vessel rained down like a feeble shower of metal, a new explosion occurred on the ground. Doctor Lee had fired upon and destroyed the shuttle on the surface.

The situation changed completely. Tytania’s infantry units were now exposed to a one-sided attack from the air. They lost their will to fight, abandoned their heavy weapons, and broke away from their organised chain of command. Acting as a group would only lead to their complete annihilation. Each soldier had no choice but to rely on their own wits and courage to escape the predicament. Doctor Lee did not pursue the infantrymen as they scattered in all directions.

Mr Fan Hyulick, the fugitive with the highest bounty in the universe, was finally reunited with his comrades aboard the Honest Old Man. There was no time to linger and catch up at leisure; they had to set off in a hurry. The group that had been operating a small-scale anti-Tytania resistance from their hideout in the underground caverns also seemed to have gained a new sense of confidence after managing to join forces with a contingent of the Blaze Flag Army.

Out of the corner of his eye, Fan Hyulick watched as their leader, the doctor, and Doctor Lee were discussing something, and he offered a sheepish apology to Pagès and Walenkov.

“Well, sorry to have caused you worry. Mind you, being captured by Tytania three times is quite enough of a life experience for me.”

Fan Hyulick offered this piece of sour grapes, but it was the Honest Old Man that could not get away with such a remark. The Tytania special operations vessel fought exceptionally well, firing two shots at the enemy, both of which struck the Honest Old Man.

Doctor Lee addressed Captain Casimir in a voice that could hardly be described as calm.

“I’m sorry to say this, but we’d better give up on the Honest Old Man. We can carry out cosmetic repairs, but it won’t withstand interstellar flight.”

Captain Compton Casimir responded to that remark with silence. It was not merely that he had lost his vocal cords and could not speak; even if that had not been the case, it must surely have been a question to which he could not have replied immediately. The Honest Old Man was not merely an inanimate object in his possession; he was his favourite partner and the very embodiment of his life itself. This was not a unique case limited to Captain Casimir; such was the nature of seasoned independent merchants. For people like that, scrapping a ship was tantamount to drawing a curtain on one’s own life.

Miranda placed her fleshy palm on her husband’s shoulder.

“Darling, it’s about time we let the Honest Old Man have a rest. He’s worked hard enough for us. He’s reached the age where he ought to hand over the reins to his son or grandson and take a well-deserved rest.”

It was not a particularly rational argument, but Captain Casimir nodded slowly. This thoughtful middle-aged man understood that this was not a situation to be swayed by personal sentiment.

“How are we going to get a new ship? As with everything else in this heartless universe, without money, you can’t even breathe.”

Alan Mahdi, who prided himself on his financial acumen, let a prosaic question roll off his tongue laced with sarcasm.

“Isn’t it your job to figure that out? What’s happened to the ingenuity you displayed back when you were a lowly foot soldier on the Tytania? It’s a pitiful state of affairs that the moment you left the organisation, your ingenuity vanished, leaving you with nothing but grumbling and sarcasm.”

Just as Mahdi was about to launch a further counterattack against Miranda’s scathing retort, Fan Hyulick interjected:

“I’ll sort out the ship.”

It wasn’t as though he had a specific plan in mind. Captain Casimir had damaged his beloved vessel to save him, so Fan Hyulick felt he had to repay that kindness.

Perhaps sensing his feelings, Captain Casimir began to form a gentle smile, but his expression changed abruptly as he cast his gaze towards a corner of the darkening sky.

Black clouds seemed to be gathering on the horizon. Both reason and instinct recognised that this was the Tytania fleet, yet even so, those who witnessed it were left momentarily dazed.

The number of vessels must have exceeded one hundred. While this represented only a fraction of Tytania’s total military might, it was more than enough to wipe out the anti-Tytania faction gathered here. Even Doctor Lee could not help but speak in a voice on the verge of losing its composure.

“It seems Lord Zarlisch Tytania is finally making an appearance in person.”

“So, what are we going to do? Are we going to fight?” asked Pagès, though he was merely asking the question.

There was no way they could survive a battle; they had no choice but to abandon the ship and flee underground. A frantic retreat began, and the sound of footsteps echoed chaotically from the giant dragon’s mouth down into its oesophagus.

“What are you all so scared of? It’s a golden opportunity that Zarlisch has come out this far. If that massive body were holed up deep within Uraniborg, we wouldn’t stand a chance, but hasn’t she come within range of our bullets?”

The voice that echoed through the cave belonged to a woman wearing a visor; in the dim light, Fan Hyulick realised she was near him. At this point, the total number of anti-Tytanian rebels who had taken refuge in the cave was around three hundred, and they had to rely on the cave’s original inhabitants to guide them. As there weren’t enough scopes to go round, they had no choice but to rely on old-fashioned torches.

Perhaps because he was an optimist at heart, Hyulick was happier to have a young, pretty woman by his side than a scruffy bloke. Once he had settled down and set his weapons and ammunition down on the ground, he asked her:

“Are you here because you’re trying to avenge your parents’ deaths or something?”

“My parents? Well, it does have something to do with them, actually.”

Lowering her voice slightly, the young woman peered into Hyulick’s eyes.

“My father is Ajman Tytania, the current Landless Clanner. My mother was an unknown woman. Nothing more than a wildflower the Clanner plucked on a whim.”

The shock seeped silently into Hyulick’s mind. In his twenty-eight years, he’d often been at a loss as to how to react, but this was the first time he’d found himself in a position where he didn’t know how to respond to a woman’s background. Ultimately, however, in such situations, one could only apologise for prying too deeply into the other person’s affairs.

“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I’d be grateful if you could forgive me.”

As Fan Hyulick bowed his carrot-coloured head, the young woman gazed at the wandering hero with an expression of utter sincerity.

“Hmm, just as my grandmother said. Why are men so weak when it comes to illegitimate children? It’s because they all have a guilty conscience.”

“Eh? So…?”

“It’s nonsense. My father was a pianist in a no-name pub. It’s a common enough story, but his opportunities were snatched away by a rival backed by Tytania…”

The woman sighed, and her expression changed slightly.

“Are you disappointed that I’m not a wandering princess?”

“No, not at all.”

With a wry smile playing around his eyes and mouth, Fan Hyulick waved his hand dismissively.

“It made me realise just how shallow I was, but now that I’ve had a moment to think about it, I rather feel it’s a good thing you aren’t one of Tytania’s illegitimate children.”

The woman didn’t ask why he felt that way.

“I’m sorry for spouting such nonsense.”

“I don’t mind.”

After answering so clearly, Fan Hyulick searched somewhat awkwardly for a topic of conversation, but there was nothing around him that had any connection to romanticism.

“So, does everyone harbour hatred or resentment towards Tytania?”

“That’s right. Everyone harbours negative feelings towards Tytania. After all, someone who achieves power and success can’t possibly be loved by everyone of their time.”

“Does that also apply to your leader?”

“Yeah. He lost his wife, child and hospital all at once. It was an accident at a Tytania-affiliated chemical plant. Even though it was entirely a human error, those responsible were never punished.”

She told Hyulick that her leader’s name was Doctor Ibn Kasim.

“I don’t think Tytania is deliberately picking on the weak. When an elephant walks, ants get crushed. That’s all there is to it. But ants aren’t alive just to be crushed by elephants.”

That’s a good line, thought Fan Hyulick. He hadn’t been born to fight Tytania, but he had certainly been born to be chased by her and forced to flee. Since he had no choice but to be born an ant, and given his temperament and circumstances meant he could never become an elephant’s servant, he had no option but to refuse to be crushed and fight back. Fan Hyulick’s mind began to race.

As long as Zarlisch Tytania remained determined to capture him alive, there would be plenty of opportunities to strike back. The desire to capture him alive was their own convenience; there was absolutely no need for them to show any restraint. He had begun to seriously consider how to bring down the approaching giant elephant.

IV

“Damn thieving rats. I’ll chop their flesh to pieces and mix it into the desert sand.”

Zarlisch rose from his command seat. Although the ground was being enveloped by the twilight, the screen clearly displayed the grey-brown terrain.

“The new dish Your Grace has devised is sure to become a Bargash speciality,” said Lieutenant-Commander Kaits, one of his staff officers, in order to flatter him.

Zarlisch was fond of this sort of boisterous, or perhaps crude joke. He opened his mouth wide, framed by his thick beard, and roared with laughter. The staff officers around him laughed in response to their commander’s laughter, but the one man who did not join in was his aide-de-camp, Commander Granite.

If there was anyone aboard Zarlisch’s flagship, the Typhoon, who prioritised reason over emotion, it was surely this man, who had served as Zarlisch’s aide-de-camp for three years. Shaking his brown head streaked with a few grey strands, Granite dared to dampen his master’s enthusiasm.

“I say this precisely because Your Grave refers to them as thieving rats. Is it really necessary for Your Grace to take it upon yourself to subdue such scum? You are a pillar of Tytania; I implore you to exercise restraint.”

Although Zarlisch gave a perfunctory nod in response to Commander Granite’s advice, he had no intention of heeding it. A born warrior who never shied from a fight, he had, moreover, once had a prisoner snatched from his grasp. He could find no peace of mind until he had once again taken Fan Hyulick prisoner, this time until death, and wiped out the pesky vermin swarming around him.

He was by no means incompetent, but at this moment, at the very least, he cast aside any effort to control his emotions with reason and charged forward, driven solely by his instincts as a warrior. Had this been a battle against a vast enemy fleet in outer space, Zarlisch would undoubtedly have utilised his formidable strength to shatter the enemy forces and achieved a spectacular military feat. But now he was swinging a club intended to slay a giant elephant, attempting to exterminate a swarm of flitting mosquitoes.

Zarlisch was unaware that vast amounts of energy were spinning uselessly, their radiant heat turning into turbulence that was being reflected back at him, gradually evaporating his reason. His staff had already been infected by this frenzy, and one of them, staring intently at the screen, cried out in excitement. It was Lieutenant-Commander Kaits.

“Shall we deploy an ultra-low-frequency missile and bury them alive, Your Grace?”

“Don’t. It would prevent me from dragging that Fan Hyulick before my mother.”

With that single remark, he dismissed his staff’s proposal. The one who had offered this advice was his aide-de-camp, Commander Granite.

“Your Grace, surely it would suffice to simply report to your mother that Hyulick has been killed. Would it not be best to proceed as proposed?”

“Granite, do not interject for no reason!I have already made my decision.”

“M-my apologies.”

The reason Granite withdrew without protest was that he was becoming increasingly aware of his own lack of passion for his duties as an aide-de-camp. What he was engaged in was not an official military operation, nor even a private war waged by the Zarlisch family; it was nothing more than a cruel hunting game. Granite recognised this fact with bitterness.

He was a military specialist in his mid-thirties who had graduated from the Vardana Imperial Space Force Academy. After completing secondary school, he had joined the crew of a Tytanian carrack, where his valour in combat against space pirates had earned him the captain’s recognition; it was on the captain’s recommendation that he had secured a Tytanian scholarship and been admitted to the Academy. Although he was a loyal soldier who had served the Tytania clan for twenty years, he was no mindless organic robot. He could not bring himself to support Zarlisch’s actions, which appeared to reveal personal feelings and undermine the interests and honour of Tytania as a whole.

One thing lead to another. This man would always prioritise emotion over reason. While that might be acceptable for an individual, it was fatal for the head of a vast organisation. Should this man become the Clanner, Tytania would be unable to avoid the peril of dancing on a pile of eggs. That was the conclusion Commander Granite was forced to reach in his heart. Even so, for the universe’s greatest ruthless general, whose name was adorned with countless military exploits, to become entangled in such a trivial matter and lay his weaknesses bare!

“Your Grace, that Bargash fly that has been hovering about for some time has begun to buzz again. What should we do?”

The communications officer’s report, as befitted a subordinate of Zarlisch, was brimming with contempt for a weak enemy. They were a group in grey military uniforms who worshipped the power of Tytania in its most physical form.

Zarlisch shook his fine beard with an exasperated expression and, without so much as a moment’s thought, issued a casual order.

“Attack it.”

“Yes, but it is an official vessel of the Bargash government; if we attack it, it will be a hostile action against them…”

“I told you to attack it. We’ll sort things out with the Bargash government in due course. Do those fools really have the guts to go head-to-head with Tytania?”

Commander Granite opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, so there was no one left to stop his master. They were, after all, the most belligerent group in Tytania. No one took offence at being ordered to attack.

Even so, they did, of course, refrain from hitting their target with the very first shot. As two energy beams burst from the gun barrels and pierced the air at close range, the patrol vessel reacted like a small animal terrified of a thunderclap, tracing a chaotic wake across the dark sky as it fled at top speed.

The Tytanian fleet watched it depart with renewed derision, then turned their guns towards the ground. A dilapidated vessel lay crumpled upon the dark Tarhari Desert. Soon, those inside the cave witnessed several streams of fire converging on a single point.

“The Honest Old Man…” sighed Miranda, her ample bosom quivering.

The dilapidated vessel, abandoned on the ground, was being cremated, its yellow and orange flames illuminating a corner of the twilight. The wind carried the flickering of the flames and the sound of burning deep into the underground cavern. This was the funeral of the Honest Old Man.

Miranda placed a comforting hand on Captain Casimir’s arm as he stood there in silence. Though not quite to the same extent as the couple, the anti-Tytania ruffians who had made the Honest Old Man their home for several months gazed at the reflection of the flames with an uncharacteristic solemnity. Some muttered that it was a shame to waste such a vessel, even if it was a ramshackle old ship. There was no need to name them.

“Night has fallen before we expected, but we ought to be seeing some movement by now.”

Shaking off the grains of sentimentality or whatever emotional state lay close to it, Doctor Lee voiced a practical concern: The man he was attempting to elevate as the leader of the anti-Tytania faction had been silent for some time, deep in thought.

“It is a sorry state of affairs for someone who’s supposed to be vying with Tytania for supremacy in space to find himself being chased through an underground passage on a remote planet like this.”

As Doctor Lee muttered this, Miranda exhaled a large amount of carbon dioxide from her lungs.

“If we were just being chased, it wouldn’t be that bad. I wouldn’t mind dying out in space, but I’ve no desire to die underground.”

For everyone except Fan Hyulick, their current situation was but a hair’s breadth from certain death. Tytania had not a single milligram of reason or necessity to keep them alive. Even if they were to surrender, the only possible outcome would be to be lined up before Hyulick and shot.

“I have an idea.”

With those words, Fan Hyulick spoke up, and the group fixed their gaze on him, listening intently to his proposal. The sole exception was the ninety-something-year-old chief steward of the Honest Old Man, who, ignoring both the flames and the commotion, leaned against the rock face and continued his solo performance of snoring, rising and falling in pitch.

Duke Zarlisch’s intention to take Fan Hyulick prisoner and keeping him alive was not born of compassion. Nor was it out of any intention to subject him to a fair trial. Nor was it out of any magnanimity to win over and appoint such a valuable talent to his side. It was solely to have Fan Hyulick brutally murdered by his own mother’s hand.

Now that this was clear, Hyulick had absolutely no need to show any deference to his opponent. And, as if in response to his combative resolve, the situation on the ground and in the air was beginning to shift one more time that day.

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