Washu

Washu

 

Tens of thousands of years ago, Earth time…

The power relationships in the galaxy were different back then. There were no connections between allied powers through the Galactic Federation, and tens of thousands of small coalitions existed, ranging in size from single planets to several solar systems. With interstellar travel routes still underdeveloped, the vast expanse of space rendered wars between nations pointless. There were territorial skirmishes between neighboring countries, but most societies focused on pioneering the unexplored frontier. That was the Age of Galactic Exploration.

The rise and fall of countless civilizations continued to spread intelligent life throughout the galaxy. Eventually, there were two major powers: an alliance centered around Jurai, the largest by far among the coalitions, and a coalition centered around Seniwa.

Since those two alliances possessed outstanding technology enabling interstellar travel, they were capable of becoming driving forces that could form a galactic federation. Unfortunately, the two nations were locked in an endless cold war. Also, even with their technology, Jurai and Seniwa were both small compared to the entirety of colonized space. Neither had sufficient assets or territory to catalyze a federation independently.

There was also another factor obstructing the relationship between the two countries: space pirates.

 

“Thanks, mister!” Easily carrying a paper bag almost as big as her upper body, a red-haired girl emerged from a grocery store. She set down the goods she had just bought on the rack on the back of her air scooter and rolled up her baggy shirtsleeves. Her outfit seemed quite large for a girl her size. Just as she straddled the seat, about to press the ignition switch, her surroundings suddenly turned dark, as if the sun had been blotted out by the clouds. The girl’s eyes had been acclimated to the sunlight, and, given the abruptness of the dimming, she had the impression that night had suddenly fallen. She reflexively looked up into the sky, and a powerful light shown into her eyes. Whatever had cast the shadow had already moved.

The girl clicked her tongue at her carelessness, blocked the direct sunlight with her hand, and slowly scanned the sky. A ship was silently flying overhead at a low altitude. It was a peculiar vessel with an outer hull carved out of wood. As expansive as the galaxy may be, only one planet used ships made of wood.

“A Royal Ship,” the girl muttered, with deep emotion and awe.

“Well, well, the Royal Ship… A crusade must be happening.” From behind the girl came a shopkeeper’s voice. Looking up at the sky, he added in vexation, “Those pirates are like locusts. They swarm back as soon as you drive them away.”

They were on Kanamitsu, a massive food production planet located in the remote regions of Jurai’s territory, with fertile lands for agriculture and plentiful oceans for a thriving fishing industry. Because it was so far out, and because of the abundant food resources, Kanamitsu was often attacked by pirates and other nations. In recent years, with the changes in territory-power relationships, it had become an important base for supplying border security forces. Therefore, a Third Generation Royal Ship piloted by an Imperial Family member was permanently stationed there. With the presence of a single Third Generation ship, Kanamitsu gained the strength of a large nation’s central planet. Now guarded by a Royal Ship, the planet’s risk of being pillaged by individual pirates and the odd organization was gone, but battles with large-scale pirate syndicates continued unchanged.

“If the Royal Ship is coming out, it must be Shank’s people,” sighed the girl.

“We’ve been marked by an onerous foe,” said the shopkeeper in response. However powerful, a single ship could not defend an entire planet. Having only one ship in a fleet surpass the others in power was inefficient, especially if that ship needed to secure a wide area. The common Jurai warrior boasted tremendous strength, but during combat, the attacking pirates held the upper hand.

“Something must be done,” murmured the girl, watching the Royal Ship, which was now the size of a grain of rice in the sky. Strife brought about more strife and generated misery for the people. The girl’s voice suggested that she had experienced that firsthand. Or, at least, the shopkeeper beside her got that feeling. “Watching them forever won’t do a thing. I better get going.”

“Hold on… I came out to give you this. Sorry, these are just samples, but give ’em to the kids.”

The girl peered inside the large paper sack he handed her, which contained a variety of snacks and candy. “Thanks, as always.” She placed the sack on the rack behind her. “I better hurry. Later, mister.”

The girl started the scooter, which was quite small, but cumbersome for a girl who only looked seven or eight. In fact, she did not appear old enough to legally have a license. But the shopkeeper and other passersby only offered her friendly banter, and no one chastised her for underage driving.

Just then, a car pulled up alongside her. A car made out of hardened wood: a Jurai security vehicle. “Washu-chan, you gotta be over sixteen to ride a scooter,” an officer said from the window, smiling.

“Oops, sorry!” A moment later, the girl transformed into an eighteen-year-old. This was why she had been wearing baggy clothing. However, her clothes could not adequately cover her newly ample body, and her shoulders remained bare. “Heh, how’s that?” In a complete change from her earlier innocence, she smiled bewitchingly in the guard’s direction.

Her name was Hakubi Washu, and she had inexplicable powers. In this age, the existence of people with such abilities was common knowledge, but those who possessed them usually hid them. In Washu’s case, she used them liberally. The town residents accepted her without a second thought.

“I’ve never seen your partner before. A rookie?” She tapped the window, calling attention to the officer, who had not been keeping his eyes on the road.

“Huh? Oh…yeah, from the Jurai home world.” Even the officer who knew her was captivated by her; the rookie next to him looked as though his soul had been yanked from his body. “S-say, let’s go on a date.”

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Your son in our day care proposed to me the other day.”

“What?! That brat… All right, marry me.”

“Don’t be silly. Your wedding vows said you would only have one wife. Get on with your patrol, champion of justice. Scram.” Washu kicked the door a little aggressively.

“C’mon, no harm done.” The officer sped up. As the car pulled away, the rookie inside kept looking behind him, even after Washu’s face was no longer visible.

Finally freed from her gravitational pull, he sighed and muttered, “Senpai, she was really beautiful. There aren’t many beauties like that on Jurai.”

“Too bad you weren’t transferred earlier. What a shame.” The older guard frowned with a sidelong glance.

“What? But you have a wife…”

“That’s not what I mean. You saw her dump us.”

“Then does she have a boyfriend? She must…”

“No, she doesn’t have anyone. She’s going to study abroad in a few days, at the Imperial Academy.”

“She got accepted to the Imperial Academy?! Is she from a rich family?”

“The day care my son goes to is also an orphanage. We’re near the border, so there are a lot of battles… What I mean is, she’s the other kind of student.” The older guard lightly tapped his head with his finger.

Students at the Imperial Academy were either from wealthy families or exempt from tuition. “A beauty and smart? That’s amazing.”

“Yeah…too amazing.”

“Huh…?”

“She got accepted to the Department of Philosophy.”

“Philosophy?!” With a surprised cry of grief, the rookie fell silent. Philosophy was the greatest of all Jurai’s sciences. It was a symbol of the power supporting Jurai, along with the Royal Trees. The scientific knowledge and technologies formulated and collected at the Academy were, in and of themselves, merely components, and rarely had direct applications. However, once an unexpected connection between fields was made, technology could advance in explosive leaps and bounds. The Philosophy Department was often the source of those connections, having come up with a plethora of revolutionary applications. It also had another important role: the creation of ethical standards in technology. Thanks to their vast store of knowledge and experience, someone qualified as an assistant philosophy professor or better would receive treatment equivalent to a head of state, not only on Jurai, but in other countries as well. They enjoyed VIP treatment from the minute they got their letter of acceptance.

“Philosophy…” The rookie muttered in disappointment. He realized that, although he’d fallen in love at first sight, she had already gone where he could not follow.

 

Washu parked the air scooter on a small hill in front of the orphanage, stretched, and looked out at the landscape. A golden carpet of grain awaiting harvest spread before her as far as the eye could see.

“Washu-oneechan! Bye!” A little girl being led by her mother waved to Washu. As Washu turned around, the mother nodded and smiled.

“Take care. See you tomorrow.” Washu waved and saw them off and then turned back towards the city that faced the farm. What looked like strings far off in the distance were orbital elevators, heading to the spaceport in geosynchronous orbit. In a few days, she was going to depart from there, headed for the planet that housed the Imperial Academy. She would have to say goodbye to this landscape as well.

“It’s not like I’ll never be able to see it again…” She laughed at herself for getting a bit sentimental, climbed onto the scooter, and pressed the ignition switch.

 

In the orphanage, ten children waited for Washu’s return. “Washu-oneechan, welcome back!”

“What did you get us, Washu-oneechan?”

“Washu-oneechan, did you get us the candy you promised?”

The children thronged and clung to Washu, calling her name in turn. Washu used the shopkeeper’s bag of sweets as bait to distract them and ran inside with the rest of the bags.

“Just like a mother bird tending to her chicks, Washu-chan?” said the director of the orphanage, who was like a mother to all of them.

“I think of them as fish in a fish farm, Mother.” Like carp, swarming and gaping near the surface. A precise, unemotional way to put it, typical of Washu.

The ladies in the kitchen, a little ways away, burst out ­laughing. But the director continued to address Washu coolly. “I suppose we won’t get to see this sight for much longer…”

Fifteen years ago, Washu had been found in front of that orphanage. She had been standing there without expression, neither searching for her parents nor crying. “Bathed in light that streamed between the clouds as they parted after the rain, you were like a child sent from heaven. It was like a dream,” the director reminisced.

Young Washu had actually been levitating when found. Despite this, the ESP test conducted before she was taken in by the orphanage was inconclusive. It had been raining, but she was not wet. The director who found her wondered if her parents were still nearby and gathered information from the networks throughout the town, but could not find any clues. Even more strangely, nobody had even seen Washu arrive or make her way through town. Since then, the director had tried every possible recourse but had never uncovered Washu’s background. The only thing Washu had carried were three red spheres. However, these were determined to be plain crystal spheres with nothing unusual about them, unrelated to Washu’s parentage.

“If that had been reported to Jurai’s Central Lab through the network, things might’ve turned out differently,” Washu muttered under her breath.

A few years after Washu was taken in by the orphanage, people began to report sightings of girls who looked like her, but of all different ages. A child listening to some adults discussing it had to tell them that they were all Washu. Her friends had already known: Washu had the ability to transform her body. The Kanamitsu government, when it found out, made her undergo another ESP test, and she was rated C: not very powerful.

Some people were suspicious of her ability, but that was not a major problem. What everyone called attention to was her superior intellect. She completed the basic curriculum, which normally took a decade, in just four years. By fifteen, she had completed the basic requirements for the Academy and received a special scholarship to attend the Jurai Imperial Academy without taking the entrance exam. As a result of aptitude tests, she decided to join the Department of Philosophy.

Washu’s admission was deferred until she reached age eighteen to allow her psychological maturation. In the meantime, she exchanged private communications with Academy professors and even published several papers.

Her eighteenth birthday was in one week. That was the day she would receive permission to attend the Imperial Academy.

In one corner of the astronomical observatory which was built on the orphanage’s roof, there was a space divided by a simple partition. This was Washu’s room. Of course, the entire observatory was basically her room. It was crammed with specimens, experimental instruments, and books that were now antique props. It was as disorganized as an attic in an old mansion; she had not tidied up, even though she was moving out soon. She did not need to: the books and specimens had been converted to data files, and she was leaving everything other than the few items of clothing she would need immediately. Now that she was a special scholarship student, the Academy would cover the cost of her necessities and luxuries.

Washu rolled over in bed, watching the sky beyond the window. “The highest seat of learning… I better keep my cover up.”

She opened her hand and looked at the three jewels she held. “I’m going to do research, not be researched.” Her final goal was to investigate her own origins and that of these three jewels.

A C-class psychic and ordinary crystal spheres, so why…? The answer was simple: the methods used so far were unable to uncover the truth.

A large bottle, discreetly placed in a corner of the room, held darkness and small points of light. Upon closer inspection, each point of light was clearly a galaxy. It was not a hologram but a real universe. Washu had created it with knowledge she gained from the basic curriculum. At the time, given her young age, she could not understand the momentous significance of the act. Later, she understood the true depths of her abilities and perceived that the three jewels concealed even stronger power. But despite her current knowledge, she could not figure out the jewels’ true nature.

“Knowledge won’t give me the answer. But…” If she released her latent abilities, she knew it would be possible to find out immediately. She would also find out who she was. But she nixed that idea.

Something within Washu spoke to her: That would only repeat the same thing all over again.

“Repeat what…?” She asked herself. “What am I?” Ever since she had discovered the meaning of her power, she had been seeking further knowledge. She wanted to find out more about herself through knowledge, not by using her powers. As if that was her goal…

She jumped at the “Ping!” from the terminal on top of her desk, which heralded an e-mail’s arrival. The pop-up in the corner of her monitor displayed an odd icon. It was from Professor Ikuma, the chairman of the Imperial Academy Philosophy Department. What looked like a child’s doodle was Prof. Ikuma’s personal icon, drawn, in fact, by his own young daughter.

“A program is like a picture…” The e-mail contained his boilerplate signature, along with a compressed file. When she extracted the file, data poured in.

“Wh-what is this…? It’s huge.” Washu stared, astounded, at the data scrolling through her monitor. Fragments of information stimulated her mind. One piece of information was a single color. Through combining, mixing, and spreading, it took shape. She could see it: the light. Suddenly, her expression became grim. “What’s this…?!”

 

“Washu-chan, you should come down soon.” The sun had long set by the time the director called up from the floor below to Washu, who was still looking over Ikuma’s data file.

“Coming!” Looking away, Washu went downstairs with an airy gait.

“We’re going to be busy, starting tomorrow.”

“Urk…” Washu paused at the director’s words. She followed him with a heavy sigh, as if the wind had left her sails. She was fine with being busy getting ready to depart for the Academy. But the director was talking about farewell parties. Now that she had been admitted to the Department of Philosophy, her calendar was scheduled down to the minute with press conferences, interviews, and meetings, many spawning from ulterior motives.

“Mother…I…” she called reproachfully, and the director returned a gentle smile.

“Everyone wants to say goodbye to you.” The director was sincere. She had the patience of a saint. Of course, everyone around her had to suffer for it as well. “You are my pride and joy, Washu.” Her smile robbed Washu of the willpower to object but also gave her unaccountable strength. Without that strength, Washu might not have been able to reach this point.

“I guess it can’t be helped…” Washu straightened up and headed to the dining hall, where her dear fish farm awaited.

 

A week later, Washu departed for the Jurai Imperial Academy amid a grand send-off from Kanamitsu senior government officials and financial organizations. After boarding, Washu was introduced to the shuttle’s captain and crew, and the bodyguards she would have until she reached the Academy. She found the officer she knew among the guards, raised her hand, and smiled. Seeing a familiar face, she felt more at ease.

A private, first-class suite had been prepared for her. She was led by her designated flight attendant to a room used only by heads of state and upper-class society. There, they had prepared everything she might need.

“I feel like I could open a general store in here,” she mused, looking at the numerous items, and closed the closet door. She sat down on the luxurious sofa and gently placed her hand on her single suitcase. “What a day. The fish started to cry, and Mother launched into her old stories again…”

Washu stared at the gift from the children: glow-in-the-dark origami flowers within a 30-centimeter cube tektite case.

This planet had a custom similar to Earth’s thousand origami cranes. They stuffed small flowers made of paper or cloth into a bottle or case as a get-well wish or farewell present. The gift had a bit of a gimmick; at a touch, the tektite case tapped into the human skin’s tiny electrical charge, stimulating the special luminescent paper and causing it to float and faintly glow. There were flowers of various sizes, some folded cleanly, some folded clumsily. It was clear that the fish—or, rather, the children—had worked very hard on them.

Washu’s vision blurred. To add insult to injury, a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m so sleepy…” she mumbled, stifling a yawn. The week had been full of farewell parties, and the last day was spent saying goodbye to the people she had grown to know at the orphanage. After she patiently comforted the crying children and put them to bed, she listened to the director’s stories—which all began with, “And we won’t see this anymore,” until the wee hours. She ended up coming aboard without sleeping a wink.

“I mustn’t sleep.” These were first-class accommodations, which Washu normally would never have a chance to see. She would take full advantage of the service and meals, no matter how tired she was. The in-flight meal was, indeed, mouth-wateringly delicious. “I feel like a country hick on a jaunt to the city… Well, it’s the truth, at least!” She laughed wryly and then ordered seconds.

 

The incident that foreshadowed the rest of Washu’s life happened a day after she transferred from the shuttle to the interstellar ferry. It started with a trivial matter, which might have easily been overlooked. Washu had taken a nap that compensated for her sleep-deprived state and, as usual, was collecting data until the wee hours, ship time.

She was accessing the ship’s computers out of curiosity. Those in the Department of Philosophy were allowed access to the depths of the computers of Jurai’s public or state-owned enterprises. Since Washu had not officially enrolled yet, accessing that information was illegal. However, considering the length of the journey to the Academy, it would be impossible to assemble a case in time, and she would only be scolded for a few hours.

“It’s brilliant. What a beautiful program.” Staring at the 3D projection that allowed her to see an extracted program in three dimensions, she sighed in admiration. The programs intricately overlapped each other, emitting a diamond-like light. “Heh…so this is Professor Ikuma’s work, after all. Then it should be around here.” She found a little doodle in the program—the one drawn by a child.

Besides her curiosity, Washu had accessed the ship’s computer for another reason: her own work was being used there. “Here it is.” One fragment of the giant program displayed in 3D was hers. The fragment was insignificant in size, but it was not something a student would usually be allowed to do before enrollment.

Are they teasing me? Or appeasing me? Even if this was genuine, could what I worked on really be usable in the real world? She had been anxious when she sent it to Prof. Ikuma. Seeing her work actually in use was a relief, and it made her enrollment in the Department of Philosophy finally feel real.

“Hm?” Checking the ship’s navigational program, she noticed a slight difference in the program and route data. Just then, in the room’s dim interior, the flowers she got from the children emitted a faint light without being touched.

Washu moved reflexively. Without time to think, she instantly activated a program.

Please work! She looked hopefully at the monitor. The small amount of time before she got results felt like hours. Within a few seconds, the light in the case faded, and the original darkness returned.

“I was so careless…!” she spat and began to analyze the data on her monitor. Someone had unleashed a virus to alter the memory of the nanomachine security system distributed in the air of the ship. The flowers had lit up in reaction to the slight static electricity generated as the nanomachines bumped into each other. “What did they do? What were they trying to do?!”

The nano-security system had stringent, multilayer precautionary measures, and program-altering viruses were expunged immediately. Even infected, there would be no desired effect without disabling about 94% of the precautionary measures. Logically, rewriting the program was impossible, so this attack itself seemed meaningless. But Washu felt certain. She furiously tapped the keys, searching the ship’s data, but there was too much. She did not have time to find what she was looking for.

“I can’t believe it. Is this what I amount to? I’m about to enroll in the Imperial Academy!” The sound and speed of the keys grew in proportion to her irritation. In contrast to her impatience, nothing but error messages were displayed on the monitor. “It’s no use…”

Just as Washu was about to give up, an odd icon popped up around the error messages, as if it had anticipated this moment. It began to move in a funny little dance. Ikuma’s icon. “The Professor? Oh!” She looked at the still-activated 3D program. Watching the beautiful, three-dimensional projection glitter like a jewel, she remembered his words.

A program is like a picture. Some people may not agree, but I think a program is the same as a piece of art. You can recognize a good one by looking at it. See, giving them physical shape makes it easier to perceive the programmer’s thoughts and emotions.

“…?!” As Washu stared at the 3D program, something did not feel right. “There?” Making a more detailed search of the location, she found a hidden domain. She did not have conclusive evidence, but she was confident. She promptly went to work, and in a few seconds, had an answer.

“Oh, good. It looks like it’s only a powerful paralysis program. Against this powerful nano-security system, it didn’t have the capacity to issue multiple commands.” Whoever unleashed the paralysis program probably had business with someone aboard the ship. They did not intend to kill. “I better make an antibody program, or it’ll affect bodily functions.” Washu was already creating the antibody program as she talked. Since she had the original data, it should not take long.

Beep beep. Another window monitor sounded an alarm. “Now what?” The hidden domain was manipulating data in the external terminals. Since she was prioritizing working on the antibody program, Washu had not yet removed it, but had directly connected the external terminal to her machine.

“The navigational program… it’s out of control?!” The monitor informed her that this ship would exit the hyperspace drive into normal space in ten to twenty minutes—directly into the path of a star. “They’re making it look like an accident?!”

That was not all. The medical monitors had detected someone besides Washu moving on the ship. “Bio-signature movement detected.” Nobody should be moving. It had to be the person who set this up.

The reading was getting stronger. The individual was moving closer to Washu’s room.

 

The dark shadow opened the door as if it belonged in the room, supremely confident about its scheme. It slowly crept towards the lump under the bedclothes. Washu did not move. The dark shadow reached out and ripped the covers off. However, the bed contained nothing but the “sleeping” dummy Washu had hurriedly constructed. A force field instantly bound the intruder.

“Whoa!!” The dark shadow, caught off guard, was all too easily captured.

Washu, camouflaged with false data, jumped out from behind the sofa. “Y-you?!”

Illuminated by the room light was the security officer she knew. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the Philosophy Department… Washu-chan.” The officer’s unexpectedly calm expression made Washu slightly anxious. However, pressed for time, she resumed her work on the antibody program as she interrogated him. “Why?”

“If you’re asking why I did this, it’s because I’m a spy, sent by the Shank Guild. Now, why were you targeted? It’s because you’ve been admitted to the Philosophy Department. Because you have the ability to see through and confront our scheme all on your own.”

At the man’s forthright answer, the alarm within Washu rang louder and louder. “What were you going to do? Brainwash me?”

“To send you to the Academy as a spy? That’s rather naive. We’ve got something similar to the Academy of our own. There’s not much value in the facilities themselves. What’s more valuable is talent. Jurai feels the same. You know the special treatment you’re getting.”

“You want to scout me?”

“That’s right. We’ve known each other a long time, and I don’t want to be rough. I liked the people in that town.” In contrast to his smiling demeanor, he turned an icy stare towards Washu. Something would happen to the town if she did not do as he demanded.

Is this a bluff…? She scanned his face to read him.

“You think I’m bluffing. It’s possible, of course, but isn’t the fact of my presence here enough?” He looked at her with a faint smile.

“But your wife and son are there.”

“And they won’t have to die if you come with me, Washu-chan.”

“The same thing will happen if you don’t do this.” She sensed no emotion towards his family in his words. But Washu remained fixated on the slight sentiment within him. Or, more precisely, she wanted to grasp at it. Otherwise, it would be too cruel to those two who loved him.

However, the man’s answer was ruthless. “They were excellent tools. Once I achieved my goal to capture you, I was going to reward them with their lives.”

Washu’s fingers paused typing. “What did you do to that town?”

“Unh?!” At Washu’s complete change to emotionless calm, the man showed bewilderment for the first time. He would not waver in the face of angry threats, but her total absence of expression—something that could not be expressed in words—struck him with fear…even dread.

“What did you do?” Washu repeated.

“What will you do with that knowledge? I suppose it wouldn’t be beyond you to do something if you had the facts. So, there is no reason for me to… A nanomachine womb camouflaged as an N-worm underground…” Suddenly, his mouth started moving against his will.

“What’s the penetration pattern?”

“The same as…this… argh!!” The man’s internal nano-security must have removed the invading nanomachines. He did not confess anything further. But it was enough.

“Now I know the security system over there will be enough. I’ll have to thank Prof. Ikuma… Huh?” Washu was distracted by something on the medical monitor.

A moment later, the monitor controlling the force field binding the man was destroyed.

“Eek! Wh-what?” It was a small explosion, but the force of the blast knocked Washu backwards. When she sprang back up, she caught sight of the man forcing his way free of the residual force field. “No way!!”

“Don’t underestimate our technology.” He lunged at Washu. The Guardian system inferred her emotions, activated, and came in between them. This Guardian was a special one; Washu had tuned it herself. But the man was powerful, and a few seconds into combat, one of Washu’s Guardians was destroyed.

Washu’s eyed opened wide, and the man shrugged. “Not bad, eh? A fusion between our technology and Jurai’s close combat skills. I’ve gained abilities beyond those of a Juraian Warrior. An AI controlled Guardian would be no match for me.”

“Then what about this?” The three Guardians multiplied to nine.

“Feh!” With three times the pressure, the man was kept at a distance.

“I must escape while I can,” Washu muttered. But then the man loomed before her. “…?!”

“I don’t care much for pride. I also brought Guardians…Washu-chan.” With a cruel grin, he approached her.

Seeing this, Washu realized that the man had no intention of capturing her. “Unh!” She stepped backwards in apparent resignation. The man chuckled repugnantly and reached for her bosom. But that was her diversion. In the next moment, the ­directional explosives she had camouflaged on the door’s surface exploded. Direct hit! Though she hadn’t hesitated to set a lethal trap, the man’s son’s smile momentarily flashed in her mind. I’m sorry, she mumbled to herself, and shook the image off.

Washu panted as the air vents discharged the smoke from the room. Then she saw that the man, who should have been blasted to the opposite wall, was gone. She did not have time to think. She fled the room through a gap in the door.

She heard the sound of metal on metal right behind her. One of the Guardians blocked the man’s attack. The sound revealed that Washu’s Guardians were superior to his. Run! Her survival instincts superseded everything else.

The man and the Guardian fought on equal terms, with ­tremendous speed imperceptible to normal humans. The processing speed was improved now that they were down to a single Guardian. Washu could only perceive the groaning in the air and the sounds of metal and destruction.

Crack! With a sound that could be physically felt through the air, Washu’s last Guardian was destroyed. That signaled death for Washu.

“Die!” The man was directly behind her. His hand slashed through the air and chopped off her head—or not. She was gone. “Teleported. But then…” The ship had anti-superpower functions. Her powers inhibited, Washu reappeared just a few meters away. “You’ll only buy yourself a few minutes doing that.”

Continued use of superpowers in combat caused great mental stress. And a distance of a few meters was nothing for the man. If he detected any loss in focus or a predictable pattern, Washu’s life was over. But she needed to buy less than a minute’s time. Her destination was the observation hall beyond the door, just a few meters away. She teleported repeatedly and appeared in the corridor before the hall. A moment later, the man closed in. She was trapped.

Then the man’s knife hand stopped a hairsbreadth away from Washu’s face.

“Who are you?!” The young rookie who had been with him on Kanamitsu was grabbing his arm. “I apologize for being late Washu-dono.”

“You had a lot to do, right? Thanks for saving me.” Washu had been distracted by the medical monitor. It had detected someone else moving besides the two of them.

“Nishia, who are you?” Washu’s shocked attacker could not even move. Unbelievably, Nishia had immobilized the man who had mastered the Shank Guild’s technology and Jurai-style combat.

“If you have the power of a Juraian Warrior, the only one who could do this is a Juraian Royal, right, Nishia-dono?” said Washu.

“R-royal?!”

Nishia shrugged with consternation. “I’m just a young benchwarmer. And considering the honor of all Juraian Warriors, a real Warrior is nothing like this.”

“Heh heh, great! An Imperial Family member as your ­personal bodyguard. Eliminating a philosopher and a Royal at the same time would be a job well done.” As Washu’s attacker finished speaking, the ship shifted into normal space with a slight shudder. “If we don’t change course, we’ll head straight for a star. If we change course even a little, the ship Shippris, which is standing by, will attack.”

“Shippris, Shank Guild’s anti-Jurai flagship?”

“That’s right. You should be honored that our newest and most elite planet-class mothership is receiving you.” The man sounded intoxicated by his own words, though it was undeniable that Shippris was a large and powerful battleship that gave trouble to even massive fleets.

“There aren’t any planets around that star…which makes it ideal.” Nishia mumbled. His quiet tone sounded like a beast roaring out of deep darkness. Even Washu felt slightly afraid.

“What was that…?”

“Mizunagi, contact Shippris and recommend their immediate and unconditional surrender.” Nishia spoke not to Washu or the other man but as if someone else was also there.

“Unconditional surrender?! You think this ship could stand a chance?!” Washu’s attacker yelled, frustrated to be ignored. Just then, someone’s voice echoed in Washu’s head… Or, rather, an image formed.

Who is it? It can’t be…

“That’s right. The Jurai Imperial Family all have ships, don’t they?” At Washu’s inquiry, Nishia smiled.

“A Royal Ship?! Impossible!!” Nishia did not answer. “You said Mizunagi? Is there a Royal Ship outside? No, this ship is being guarded by regular battleships. And I shifted the timing of their jump into normal space. It would take an hour of Galactic Standard Time for them to get here, no matter how fast they were!”

“Senpai, it’s here, on this ship.”

“What?!”

In that instant, they saw beautiful sails of light unfurl from the observation deck windows.

“Light Hawk Wings…” The moment the man murmured those words, a flash of light enveloped his body.

“He self-destructed?!” Nishia and Washu both realized at the same time. With a Juraian Warrior’s reflexes, Nishia threw them to the floor and covered Washu to protect her. But the flash of light did not spread. A white wing covered the man’s body, blocking the explosion.

“This is a Light Hawk Wing? But…” Nishia looked out the window to confirm that they were there. The three Light Hawk Wings created by the Royal Tree shone outside.

There must be two Third-Generation Trees for the Light Hawk Wings to materialize. Then…who is producing this one?

Neither Nishia nor Washu herself realized that the three jewels in Washu’s pocket were shining brightly.

 

One early morning, on the third day after the incident, their ship arrived at the Academy’s satellite station. The ferry Washu was on had two Royal Ship cores on board. Royal Ship cores were extremely small and disguising them on a medium-sized passenger ship was simple. Not even the Shank Guild’s mothership stood a chance against two Royal Ships.

However, even a Royal Ship needed time to destroy a planet-class ship. There was a risk that the enemy ship would use her size to escape. Shippris would not surrender at first. But in a few minutes, once half their armaments failed, the recommendation for non-combatants to abandon ship was accepted without protest. Washu guessed that Shippris would use the escape pods as a shield, and Nishia had anticipated as much, too. By the time they escaped, one of the Royal Trees had already infiltrated the Shippris and taken it over.

“To think that the most advanced outer hull unit actually served to inhibit the core of a Royal Tree’s true powers.”

The core’s direct attack created a distortion field, which induced abnormal activity in the nearby star, shortening its lifespan by a few hundred million years. “As you saw, we can only rarely use direct core attacks. Please keep this matter confidential.”

“I know.”

“We know where their base is. By now, they’re under attack by their own Shippris, under Royal Tree control, plus the Juraian fleet.” Jurai’s offensive power would be overwhelming with that united front, no matter what the scale of the Shank Guild’s base was, or how much power they had.

“Oh…” Washu suddenly heard a voice in her head, similar to the one she had heard when they were rescued from Shank’s spy.

“What?!” Almost at the same time, Nishia spoke.

“Did something happen?”

“No…it’s nothing. I’m sorry, there’s been an emergency, so I must take my leave. Take care, Washu-dono.”

“You too, Nishia-dono.” It was clear to her that something must have happened, but she knew it was pointless to ask. She said her goodbyes to Nishia, shook hands, and hurried to the entry shuttle port. It would be a few years until she found out what had happened.