Chương 283: 118. Friend's Kiss 1

By the time Maki and I got back to the Yukikaze, the two heavy repair arms outside the berth were still clamped to her hull—like a pair of iron hands that weren't exactly gentle, but were at least forcing our old beast back into something vaguely ship-shaped. The outer plating was still covered in welding scars and mismatched patch colors, with temporary cable bundles sticking out through armor seams in varying degrees of disgrace.

But compared to the way she'd limped in—gasping, bleeding, looking liable to shed parts all over the lane—the Yukikaze now actually resembled a ship. Not a good one. But at least one that could still bite. The moment Maki and I stepped into the mid-section main corridor, we nearly ran into two station workers hauling distribution modules, with one of the Yukikaze's record-keepers following behind.

The air in the passage was thick with welding smoke, disinfectant, cold metal coolant, and that particular warship sort of human noise—everyone busy enough to want to die, but not dead yet. For some reason, that scene was reassuring. As long as the Yukikaze could still maintain that noisy, half-coherent order, it meant she was alive. Not yet downgraded to a drifting coffin.

"Executive Officer." The record-keeper straightened instantly when he saw Maki.

"Acting captain is in the temporary bridge. He wants you there as soon as you're back." Maki nodded once.

"Got it." I could see her reordering the entire deep-refit-dock situation in her head as we walked. When she dropped into work mode, she got quieter—not colder, just stripped of everything nonessential. All the static got shoved out; only what mattered stayed. At times like that, if I kept buzzing around making jokes, I wasn't witty, I was ornamental.... Though to be fair, that wasn't such a huge shift from my baseline.

So I just kept pace beside her until we stepped into what we were currently calling the temporary bridge-slash-tactical room.

"Temporary bridge" was generous. It was more like a command room Maki and Ash had physically dragged up a rank and ordered everyone to pretend was a fully functional bridge. CIC was still sealed, the main tactical integration net was still crippled, so a lot of what should've been running through specialized systems was being compressed into this one room.

The main projection, two auxiliary tactical screens, the station berth-structure schematic, repair progress bars, supply levels, external intercept feeds—they were all stacked together, like someone had ripped out the nervous system of a destroyer and shoved it into a room that hadn't had time to protest. Ash was there.

He sat in the chair that had been mine as acting captain, with two materials manifests spread beside a berth-security chart and a mug of something that looked like coffee and was probably just a dark liquid intended to frighten his nervous system into staying awake. Lan stood at the comms console, sorting through updated station traffic lanes. Jess was curled up at a side seat, tablet in her arms, reading intently.

The second she saw me, her eyes lit up with that particular look that meant, ah, intel's back; gossip can finally be upgraded to military action.

"You're back," Ash said, looking up. Not a question.

"Do we look that much like we're still on our way?" I said.

"Your breathing's a little fast," he replied.

"That's because I just found a pirate ship, a Kushima Heavy Industries Next-Gen Helium-Hydrogen Power Plant, and a small crowd drooling over our Frostcrystal source." I slapped the board down on the nearest table.

"If my breathing were steady after that, you'd better call the medical officer to check if my brain's still getting oxygen." Jess's head snapped up.

"Wow. That beats my Frostcrystal attrition-rate numbers by several orders of magnitude on the entertainment scale."

"Business first," Maki cut in, walking straight to the main display.

"Lan, tighten access. This segment stays off the shared record layer." Lan didn't waste a syllable. She keyed in a sequence; door locks, soundproofing, and local recording filters spun up and locked. Jess's expression sobered, just enough. Which meant this wasn't a regular briefing. This was core-team, private tactics. Ash nudged his mug aside and straightened slightly.

"From the top." Maki didn't waste time. She had me go through it all: the blocked corridor, the detour through the old maintenance belt, the position of the deep refit dock, the raider's hull profile, dock security, the appearance of Ledger's people, the Next-Gen Helium-Hydrogen core, and the fact that our Frostcrystal source had stopped being a curiosity and turned into a target. Ash didn't interrupt while I talked. He actually listened—and with him that meant he was sorting as he went.

Separating intel from emotion, speculation from onsite texture. Everything went into its proper column in his head. He didn't need me to pre-digest any of it. By the time I got to Hook yelling about his "Next-Gen Helium-Hydrogen Power Plant," Jess's mouth was already forming silent swear words. When I mentioned the Kushima Heavy Industries logo on the casing, she sucked in air hard.

But it wasn't until I got to the part about people in the station pulling my file—treating me as potential access to the true Frostcrystal source—that the air in the room actually shifted. Joking was one thing. Gossip was one thing. Once someone started tracing the Frostcrystal line back from the Yukikaze, that wasn't black-market small talk. That was live risk expanding. When I finished, there were two seconds of quiet. Then Ash's first question wasn't about the reactor. It was:"Who moved first?" I blinked.

"Huh?"

"On the Frostcrystal line," he said, eyes on me, voice flat.

"Which side was the first to shift openly in that direction?" I thought for a second.

"Ledger's side signaled it first. Hook's line hooked in after. The Gaffer is still keeping a lid on it officially, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know." Ash nodded.

"Good. Then the sequence tracks."

"Tracks how?" Jess asked.

"It means," Ash said, pulling up a rough station-faction map on the display, "this isn't a pack of hyenas all smelling something at once. The counting house and account first realized that icefield stock might not be one-off material, and the lower tiers are just starting to itch." He tapped three points on the map.

"The Gaffer's people run the interface. Ledger's people decide what's worth digging on. Hook-types—external raiders—are the kind who smell it and want first bite. In other words, the station hasn't moved on us yet, not formally. They're evaluating whether to reclassify us from 'paying customer' to 'traceable supply line.'" Jess's mouth twitched.

"I suddenly miss the days when my main problems were ration charts and broken water pipes."

"You can keep missing them," Maki said.

"While also re-basing the Frostcrystal stock chart against what we've already committed." Jess straightened at once.

"On it, Executive Officer." I watched the map, feeling that sense of okay, this just leveled up settle in. Then Maki finally swung the focus back to the core. She raised a hand and sketched in marks for the features I'd logged—casing, layout, interface placements.

"That helium-hydrogen plant isn't a civilian export model," she said. Ash looked up.

"You're sure?"

"Eighty percent," Maki said. Her tone was flat, but I knew that when she said "eighty," the real confidence margin was higher.

"Casing markings, main interface rings, symmetry on the secondary nodes. None of it matches open-market transport or border patrol variants. At least not anything on a standard sales line." Lan turned from her station.

"Military spec?" Maki paused.

"Leaning military. Or worse," she said.

"Could be test-batch leakage. Could be a special-run line. Either way it shouldn't be on Hook's ship, and it definitely shouldn't be getting installed half-open in a place like Lawrence Shipyard." I folded my arms and couldn't help adding:"I don't understand cores, but I understand one thing—if you're using the phrase 'or worse,' this isn't normal 'good gear.'" Maki gave me a brief look.

"Your read is correct."... Her Esteemed Executive Officer really needed to ease up on the direct praise. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. It was going to cause problems. Ash ignored my tiny lapse in professional heartbeat and went straight for the part that mattered.

"Can we use it on the Yukikaze?" The room's focus finally locked in. Because now we weren't talking black-market trivia or station politics or some raider getting fancy hardware he didn't deserve. We were talking about whether we were going to dig that heart out and put it in our own chest. Maki didn't answer immediately. She walked to another screen and pulled up a schematic of the Yukikaze's current main reactor system.

That diagram always made my head hurt—too many lines, too many notes, half of them saturated with the ship's signature flavor of you thought I was dead, but actually I'm just stubborn. She tapped several nodes.

"On paper, the Yukikaze's old fusion plant can hold," she said.

"Easily for five days. Maybe through the next hit without catastrophic failure. But it's hitting its ceiling. Aging main output assemblies, poor thermal efficiency, sluggish response under transient thrust. Most of the newer modules strapped around it are only compatible because we've massaged the interfaces and compromised half the design." Ash cut in, dry.

"Translate."

"Translated," Maki said, level, "the heart is still beating, but it's old. And slow." I almost laughed. Even Jess ducked her head and coughed into her hand to hide a smile. Maki ignored us and kept going.

"If that helium-hydrogen core's specs are even close, and Hook's people haven't committed too many acts of sabotage inside it, then yes, in theory it's a replacement candidate. Not in the 'slot it in and flip the switch' sense. It would mean fully rerouting interface architecture, rebalancing output, rebuilding the cooling tree, potentially rewriting our whole energy-distribution logic." She paused.

"But if we do it, the Yukikaze's thrust response, energy economy, and tactical maneuver ceiling would all look significantly better than they do now." I stared at the diagram. I only understood half of it. My chest understood all of it. Not because I'd suddenly become an engineer. Because I knew that when Maki said "significantly better," she wasn't talking about a minor upgrade. She meant the Yukikaze going from an old beast that could still bite to an old beast growing new, sharper teeth.

Ash finally leaned back, fingers laced on the table.

"Fine. Technical value confirmed," he said.

"Then it's a question of method."

"Buy it, steal it, take it off his wreck, or wait for misfortune to do the work?" I said. Jess glanced over at me.

"That classification has real frontline energy."

"Thanks. I've been interning in a black market." Ash ignored my noise and laid out the lines.

"First: we don't move on it openly inside the station," he said.

"The moment we show disproportionate interest, the Gaffer, Ledger, Ledger Crow—and likely Mama Steel—are going to immediately update their estimates of our capacity and intent. The price won't just double. The entire station will start watching us." Maki nodded.

"Agreed."

"Second: we don't buy it now," Ash said. I raised an eyebrow.

"That blunt?"

"If we buy it now, we admit we need it," he said, looking at me.

"The moment Hook realizes the Yukikaze isn't just 'a bit tempted by some nice hardware,' but 'actually positioned to swap out her main reactor,' he stops being a pirate. He becomes an auctioneer."... Obnoxiously accurate metaphor. Jess muttered under her breath.

"And the worst kind of auctioneer."

"Exactly," Ash said.

"Third: the station is already sniffing around for the Frostcrystal source. That means we don't have time to stage this slowly. Once Hook realizes that too, he may move up his departure." Lan pushed a fresh berth-activity overlay to the main screen.

"That's not a maybe," she said.

"It's happening." We all turned to look. Lan highlighted a berth in gray-red.

"Hook's raider filed for additional pre-departure resupply fifteen minutes ago," she said.

"High-density fuel cassettes, external coolant, extended authorization on weapons-bay diagnostics, and a short-range corridor clearance request." My throat clenched.

"He's moving up his schedule."

"Yes," Lan said. Ash's gaze darkened—but not in panic. It was the weight that said, fine, the pieces are moving.

"How long until the Yukikaze reaches 'leave port, fight, don't expect it to look pretty' status?" he asked. This time it was Akari who answered. She walked in just then, carrying a stripped circuit board and a fresh report, looking as unimpressed with the universe as always.

"If that's the status you want," Akari tossed the report down, "fourteen hours." She pointed to a few lines.

"Outer hull is seventy-eight percent resealed. Remaining gaps can be bridged with ad-hoc armor. Secondary power trunks back up to eighty-two percent, water cycle at eighty-six, engine cooling loops at ninety-one. Fire-control outer calibration's still off, but taking on a standard Imperial patrol corvette won't be an issue. CIC is still dead, don't fantasize. Main plant is still the same old lump of fusion bone, but at least it won't cough itself to pieces."

I couldn't help saying:"Your reporting style is getting more and more like Maki's."

"No," Akari said.

"She's more like ice. I'm just done sugarcoating." Maki didn't look at her. She went straight for what mattered.

"The Zero?" That made something jump in my chest. I knew exactly which craft she meant. Not the standard fighters. The modified high-recon Zero we'd been deliberately not talking about since we docked. The one that had been sitting there as our afterthought contingency from the beginning. Akari pulled up another status bar.

"Hull patched. Stealth package updated to sixty percent. Sensor array calibrated. Short-burst high-thrust mode operational. Two old attitude thrusters still in the cleaning and reseal queue." She paused, then looked at Maki.

"If you're asking 'can it fly,' it'll be ready in nine hours." Heat ran down my spine. Good. That was plain. Ash understood too. He drummed a finger once on the table, as if gathering all the threads together.

"Then we don't buy," he said. The room went quiet for a beat. Not from surprise. From confirmation. We'd all seen it coming. We just needed someone to say it. Ash looked at me and Maki.

"We sit tight. Don't let Hook see where our real interest lies. On the surface, we run round two of price talks as planned. Let the Gaffer think we're still focused on patching hull, counting materials, and mutually despising Ledger Crow's people. Jess, you keep compressing the Frostcrystal ledgers. Outwardly, we're the ones calculating if we can make it to the next round. Not gearing up for a heart transplant." Jess nodded.

"Got it. I'll make our balance sheets look very poor and very unappealing."

"Your talent for that is getting impressive," I said.

"Survival," she said.

"It's a skill set." Ash went on.

"Lan, track Hook's departure window, resupply flows, and corridor requests. Any change, you call it immediately."

"Copy."

"Akari, Zero is now priority," he said.

"I don't care how it looks. I care that it flies, follows, and shuts up." Akari rolled her eyes with admirable professionalism.

"Then keep Jess away from its paint job."

"I just have standards!" Jess protested.

"Your standards add zero point zero three to its radar cross-section," Akari told her, cool.

"... Okay. I'll shut up." Ash finally turned back to Maki and me. In that moment, I already knew what the line would be. Sure enough:"As soon as Hook brings his departure up," Ash said, "Maki and Shimo launch in the Zero and follow." The thing that'd been sitting in my chest slotted into place. It was oddly steadying. Like something that had been waiting around in the background had finally been given an official label. Maki didn't react outwardly. She just asked, calm:"And the Yukikaze?"

Ash's answer was just as clean.

"The Yukikaze doesn't go immediately." He threw the external corridor map up on the screen.

"We hold the berth. Keep looking like we're still 'under repair, still negotiating, still just a broken ship that pays its bills and doesn't have time for trouble.' Once you've confirmed Hook's heading, escort, and whether he's got anything else on his tail, then the Yukikaze leaves port." I nodded.

"So we go as the shadow. The Yukikaze follows as the stick." Ash looked at me.

"Crude analogy. Accurate."

"I'm very grounded lately."

"It shows," Maki said, dry.... Was the Executive Officer in a decent mood today? Even the put-downs had a bit of warmth. Very dangerous. Made it much easier for me to get greedy. So I dragged my brain back onto actual tactics.

"What if Hook really does take that core out with him and then gets bitten by Imperial forces?" I asked. Ash let a thin smile show. Not pleased. Just finally, the right question.

"Then it's better," he said. I raised a brow. Maki looked at him too. Ash overlaid an Imperial patrol hot-zone map on the existing chart. Even I could pick out two patrol paths hugging a little too close to Lawrence Shipyard's gray area lately.

"Imperial patrol units run this sector regularly," he said.

"A raider like Hook's draws attention on his own, just off his existing grudges. If someone lightly reminds an Imperial captain that there's a particularly interesting ship on a certain gray lane—" He stopped there. I watched him, and felt a pleasant, crawling kind of unease run down my back.

"... You people in upper command are really something," I said, with complete sincerity.

"It's not being underhanded," Ash said.

"It's saving ammunition." Maki didn't bother to argue that. She just finished the tactical translation.

"If Hook engages an Imperial patrol first, we get a clear read on his refit strength, whether the reactor is actually fully online, and whether he'll throw more of his hand on the table to stay alive."

"And we can make him need us more," I added.

"Exactly," Ash said. Jess hugged her tablet and sighed.

"I really want to light Hook a candle. Shame I don't know whether he'd prefer vanilla or cordite."

"He looks like motor oil," I said. Even Lan ducked her head to hide a smile. Ash, somehow, managed to drag the mood back to the one thing that mattered.

"There's only one problem," he said.

"What?" I asked.

"The Yukikaze isn't repaired enough to throw punches without cost," he said, looking at us. His voice settled back down.

"If we do intercept outside, it has to be a very clean fight. No dragging it out. No showing more of our internal refits than we have to. And we can't let Lawrence Shipyard and the Imperial Navy get a full read on our fire profile at the same time." Maki nodded.

"In other words, if we move, we don't fight to annihilate. We fight to control."

"That's it," Ash said.

"We want that core, Hook's leverage, and the initiative—pulled out from under Ledger and the Gaffer's eyes. This isn't about the satisfaction of shooting." I sighed.

"You're making me nostalgic for the days when the answer to 'enemy ship spotted' was 'empty everything we've got.'""Those days of yours tended to have very short endings," Maki said.

"... Executive Officer, your timing for killing the mood is impeccable."

"You're welcome." By that point, the skeleton of the plan was up. Maki and I hadn't just brought back a story about a pirate ship and some shiny hardware. We'd dragged the next move's entire frame back to the Yukikaze's table. Ash turned it into something executable. Maki hammered down the technical value and risk boundaries. And me— Fine. I was the one making sure that after listening to this whole artfully vicious outline, I still wanted to jump in. Then Maki turned her attention back to me.

"Shimo."

"Yeah?"

"Your solo runs, in and outside the station, are canceled," she said. I blinked.

"What?"

"Ledger's people are already digging into your file," she said. Her tone was flat, but the space for negotiation was zero.

"If you keep wandering around alone, you're just saving them the cost of tailing you. From now on, any trip outside the ship—berth, materials, whatever—minimum two-person team." Jess's hand shot up at once.

"I volunteer as escort. I promise I'll—""No," Maki and Ash said together. Jess deflated.

"You two having this much rapport is offensive." I couldn't help laughing. The laugh hadn't even faded when Maki added:"Before the Zero launches, you take four hours off." I frowned immediately.

"Now?"

"Now."

"But we just came back from a recon run, there are still details—""You've brought the details back," she said, looking straight at me. Her gaze was so steady it might as well have been a nail going into the deck.

"If you end up chasing Hook out of port and babysitting an Imperial patrol at the same time, you need a clear head. Not adrenaline." I opened my mouth, but Ash cut in from the side.

"She's right. In your current state, four hours of sleep is worth more than two more passes over station traffic charts." I glared at him.

"Did you two sync scripts beforehand?"

"No," Ash said. Maki added, blandly:"You just genuinely look like the kind of person who'd push herself straight into a mistake." She wasn't wrong. I stood there, arms folded, silent for two seconds. Then I let the air out.

"Fine," I said.

"I'll sleep. If Hook hasn't left when I wake up, I keep watching. If he's gone, I get in the Zero with you." Maki nodded.

"Exactly." I turned for the door. I'd barely reached it when Ash called after me.

"Shimo." I looked back. He watched me, tone as flat and unsentimental as ever.

"What you brought back today," he said.

"Good work."... Perfect. They'd clearly agreed that today was the day they'd take turns using normal, functional praise to make me uncomfortable. My mouth twitched.

"What did all of you eat today?"

"Nothing," Ash said.

"Good intel deserves to be treated as good intel." I stood there, suddenly unable to decide whether to mock him for being so righteous, or admit that the line made something in my chest sit a little easier. In the end, all I managed was a weak:"Right." And then I left. Because if I didn't, I was going to end up standing in the doorway like a very stupid piece of decorative furniture. Outside the temporary bridge, the mid-section corridor lights were the same harsh white as always.

Welding noise, cargo rattling, someone in the engine section swearing in the distance—all of it was as familiarly alive as ever. But I knew that in a few hours, the Yukikaze was going to shift from "broken ship under repair" into something else. Not prey being chased. Predator picking time, ground, and target. And this time, Maki and I would be the ones to go out first. In that modified high-recon Zero, hooking onto Hook's tail. The thought should've sent me to bed. Instead, my heartbeat got clearer. Annoying.

But— Very us.