Dahyun had finished the food. One that a princess had made. On the Breakthrough. Those two things hardly computed in her mind, but the product was really good pasta, so she wouldn’t question it. She’d gone over the positives (there were a lot) and negatives (there were also a lot) about having the three on board. Depending on her mood, the negatives outweighed the positives, but she couldn’t help but recall how their faces had crumpled when remembering the initial attack on their own ship. They had already faced their own set of negatives—technically a flood of them. Dahyun couldn’t find it in her to add on to that. Maybe that made her soft and she couldn’t help but worry that she was putting them all in danger, but the rest agreed that they should keep the girls onboard. 

Now here she was, her decision already made. She was doubting it, but she was also doubting her doubt. Most of the rest would be sleeping. Jihyo would be staying up a bit longer, so would Jeongyeon. On longer journeys, they had to try their best to adapt their sleep schedules. Theoretically, with all the substances at their disposal, legal and illegal, one didn’t have to ever sleep. At least you didn't have to for a few weeks. However, Tzuyu always ranted against all of it, saying that humanity had survived perfectly without drugs like that and only under specific circumstances would she ever allow one of them to take something. Thankfully, it didn’t apply to caffeine. 

She shook her head. She didn't a coffee. Right now she just needed to move around. Lying down for hours upon end drove her crazy and she’d forgotten to ask them to get her something useful to fill that time. All she really had to go by was courtesy of Jeongyeon: information about the Minatozaki empire. It was boring, but apparently necessary for risk management. She’d skimmed through it. 

The Minatozaki story starts with a hybrid company of aerospace and weaponry—family based of course. Simple enough. They were responsible for humanity reaching the Kepler system. The text mentioned nothing about other companies, but it was impossible for it to have been done alone. Then again, for the sake of telling a good story, that was a feat achieved by the Minatozakis alone. 

Somewhere along the line, another head of the family got the wonderful idea that they should be considered royalty. At this point, they held influence, money, and power—it was a no-brainer. Dahyun still didn’t get just how one entity could rule over an entire planet, let alone a planetary system, but the information thing didn’t explain the politics, economics, or even the logistics of that. Another thing she just had to accept. 

So, Dahyun was thoroughly bored after that. ‘Risk management’ just involved knowing that they were going to a place in the stars that had a rich history of how it became a corporatocracy. It was messy, pretty messy, but its present was bland compared to that of Kepler and Coruscant. She just hoped it meant they’d get out of the Earth system intact and not be arrested. As much as its history reeked of corruption, the part of it she saw now—namely the glimpse of ideals she saw in Mina, Sana, and Momo—didn’t seem to share that corruption. She just hoped that didn’t mean they’d crack down on her for forgery and the other ‘things’ she and the others had gotten up to. 

She rubbed her eyes and got up from her bed. The leg that had been shot had been thoroughly numbed and was now immobilised, but that didn’t mean she could put any pressure on it. That meant she’d have to hop. 

So she did, all the way out of the medical bay and to the ladder. She hooked herself onto the pulley, took a breather, and then slid down. She was too eager. Her good leg landed with a nice thump and she instinctively let go of the pulley. What was worse than a bad leg? A bad arm and leg.

Luckily, the fall wasn’t bad. It was more a slow defeat, because she knew she couldn’t use her leg to steady herself. She landed on her side. And cursed. 

“Hello?” she heard from the kitchens. The princess? Awake at this time? Or maybe she was still running on a different timezone. 

“All good,” Dahyun replied. “Just lost my balance.” 

“Should you be down here?” Sana was already coming over. Just her luck. “Are you going to your room?” 

Dahyun felt hands go around her arms and help her up. Sana wasn’t exactly strong, nor was she weak. Something she wasn’t going to comment on. Needless to say, getting Dahyun on her feet was a struggle. 

“To the workshop.” Which was sometimes called her room, but she didn’t spend nearly as much time in it as Jihyo and Jeongyeon did in the cockpit. “I needed something to do.” She also didn’t mention that Sana’s family history had left her bored out of her mind. Definitely not a good conversation starter. 

Sana just nodded. In that moment, she looked really tired. Dahyun was about to ask why she wasn’t asleep. Then she remembered. A lot was probably hanging on her conscience.

She had to say something, maybe something that could take her mind off of that. Little could take away from the guilt, but distraction could work wonders sometimes. She just had to figure out what that distraction could be. 

“You heard you’re staying, right?” She carefully pulled away from Sana’s arms and hopped over to the door to her workshop. She knew this place in and out. How was it for the others? The doors were distinctive in the sense of what scrap parts were in which place and maybe how wide they were , but that was it.

“Yeah, Nayeon told us.” Pause. “Thank you.” She said it quietly, as if the words themselves were fragile. 

“Also, you didn’t mention the fact that you can cook damn well. I would’ve said you’re staying sooner if you’d made lunch yesterday.” Was it yesterday? The back-and-forth of her thoughts, her being asleep for a few hours because of Tzuyu’s drugs—it all made sure that she didn't have a clue about the time that had passed. 

Sana smiled then. Dahyun considered it a success. 

Jeongyeon hadn’t decoded the workshop. She typed in the code, but didn’t feel the need to look over her shoulder. Just as long as she didn’t mess anything up, Sana could go in if she really wanted to. 

That made her pause. What was Sana’s role in all this? What did a Minatozaki royal actually do nowadays? Would she tell Dahyun? Only one way to find out. 

“What’s your role in the company?” she asked, hopping into her workshop. She heard Sana following her. A good sign. 

“What?” 

Not such a good sign. Had she already messed up?

“Sorry,” Dahyun said. She sat down at the workbench. Hopping was tiring. “In the empire? Royal family? Business?” Regime? She left that last one out. 

“Oh,” she smiled again, “princess, as you already know, but,” she trailed off. Her eyes flickered around the room. Dahyun wondered if she was comparing it to Minatozaki standards. From what she knew of them, even if some of their weapons were terrible, the facilities were probably outstanding. “I’m the lead designer of our weapons.” 

That made sense. She’d recognised the Minatozaki forgery immediately, but also picked up on its changes. She recalled how the princess had dismantled her weapons, but put them (or at least the MZ rifle) back together with ease. She’d done what Dahyun had when she first tried her hand at ‘recreating’ weapons. Only this time, she'd been trying to figure out what changes Dahyun had made to it. 

Lead designer. Dahyun remembered some of the first things she’d said to her. When she hadn’t known who she was. 

“Sorry if I—” The words failed her. Had she designed those very weapons that Dahyun had, essentially, said ? “Insulted you?” 

The princess laughed then. It was a light sound. “You didn’t. Though in my defence, that rifle is from the line serving people who value image over practicality.” 

Dahyun couldn’t believe her ears. “You mean people who don’t want a proper gun.” 

“Those guns still work,” she replied. Her lips were pursed, the bottom lip just a bit more pronounced. Was she pouting? “They just tend to be better for the people who don’t want something heavyweight.”

“You mean ugly.” She thought of her pistol then. She’d caught the three looking at it like it was some foul thing. 

Sana seemed to have the same thought. “That gun of yours isn’t ugly.” 

“But it was the first thing you thought of when I said that word.” Dahyun laughed. “Don’t start getting all courtly on us. Honesty, remember?”

She nodded. “Does it work fine with a form like that?” 

Dahyun could take that. It wasn’t an attractive gun. Not at all. People usually underestimated it for that reason. “Yep. Fires normal bullets, though as you noticed with the other one, they can be switched.” Which she only did if the situation needed someone to be really out of commission. Energy weapons, if they didn’t kill you, could leave even more lasting damage than normal ammunition. Of course, the worst of the worst only used energy cells. 

Sana didn’t respond. A distant look came into her eyes, as well as regret. It was familiar. Damn it. Dahyun had reminded her of the shot. For her it was hard not to be reminded of it. She was wearing a cast after all, but this one already had a lot of other things to worry about. 

What could she say now? Tell her that she knew how she was feeling? What if she told her about the reason there were seven rooms? Told her that the seventh room wasn’t actually a guest room? 

Dahyun looked away. That wasn’t anything she wanted to talk about now, not to a complete stranger either. Instead, she looked at the workbench. Nothing she could tinker with. 

Tinker with. This girl was a weapons designer. In her position, she could probably choose between any of the many pieces of her family’s empire to take over. She'd chosen weapons. 

“Did Jihyo tell you guys where everything was in here?” She got up. 

Sana looked up. “Just that we shouldn’t take anything apart. Especially if it was a weapon of Chaeyoung’s.” 

She smiled at that. “Good.” She looked at the ceiling, finding one of the newest guns Chaeyoung and her had developed together. They had the plans for that, so it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Sana took it apart. Then again, it had just been assembled. “I separated the stuff based on what they’re for.” There were two cabinets for the same thing, one filled with tools, the other with materials. The sets were for guns, the ship, and other products of theirs. Then there was the cabinet for everything else.

Her brow furrowed then. “And what do you put in that?”

Dahyun looked to where she was. She was standing with her hands clasped in front of her. Contrasted to her clothes, it made for a strange image. 

“Come on,” she waved her over, “some general stuff’s in here.” She pulled out spare parts, different salvaged materials from old ships and disposal drops she’d gathered throughout the years. 

“What would you use a hubcap for?” The princess pulled out a plate-like piece of metal.

“A what?” 

She looked at her for a moment. “It’s put on the wheel of a car.” 

So that was what they called it. “You guys still use cars?” They were as good as relics, only ever seen in the old videos from Earth or the vehicles used to explore the surface of planets and moons. 

A smile. “Don’t look so shocked. They work.”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “Like trolleys work.” Ships, hovercrafts, and walking were Dahyun’s main modes of transport. She barely used a hovercraft, only ever in the very rare cases she went to a planet or a massive station. 

“Dahyun,” someone said. “What are you doing down here?” It was Tzuyu. She didn’t sound happy. She also looked like she’d just woken up. The strict doctor side of hers was always intimidating. The tired version even more so. 

“Um,” she started, “I had to move around.” 

When she glanced at Sana, she was smiling. At least that had worked. 

“Your leg's gotta be suspended,” she said. “Come on.” 

“Hang on,” Dahyun made her way to another cabinet, “in here we have what you’d need for designing, even paper if that’s something you prefer.” She pulled one of the monitors. “It’s unassigned. Use it whenever." She glanced around the room. "I'm pretty sure you know how to use the other machines? They might be a little old-school for you." The amount of things she'd gotten second-hand, or even third- and fifth-hand, might be alarming to this royal. She didn't say. At least they all worked. 

Tzuyu cleared . 

“I’m coming,” she groaned. “You have a heart monitor on me or something?”

She didn’t say anything. That alone was enough of an answer. 

When she turned to Sana, she was looking more confused than anything. Tzuyu being here was another reminder. Dahyun felt slightly guilty then. She’d probably hadn’t been doing a great job making the princess feel better about her situation. Maybe when things calmed down and they all sat down in the common area, they could give the three passengers some semblance of comfort here. The others would be able to do a lot better job at that than Dahyun. 

Still, she could try something now to make it better. She wasn't always good with words, but maybe they'd work now. 

“Except for taking things apart, you have free reign in there,” Dahyun said. “You want to design something, go for it, you need Mina to secure that device, you can do that too.” She paused. “And if you want to build something and aren't gonna deplete the stock of parts, do it.” 

Tzuyu was looking at her, a question in her eyes. Dahyun dismissed it and started hopping over to the door. 

“Do we still have those fancy crutches?” Jihyo had needed them last year. Chaeyoung and Dahyun had designed some that could be used as a gun or a really great baton-like thing. 

“You’ll get them tomorrow,” the doctor replied. “Goodnight, Sana.” 

“Goodnight,” she said. “Dahyun?”

She turned to see that the distant look was gone, as was the regret. It was covered by a smile. 

“Thank you.” 

Dahyun felt her face warm then. “No problem.” 

They walked out of the room. The door closed behind them. 

“Never thought you’d leave a stranger in your workshop.” 

Neither had she. “Never thought I’d be shot for a stranger,” Dahyun replied. 

Tzuyu was fighting a smile. Her dimple was already present. “Now go sleep. I put the leg rest on your bed already.” Then she gave her a look. “Or do whatever else, just don’t move around.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Dahyun bowed her head. That reminded her, did the princess get addressed with titles too? 

The taller girl just shook her head. “Goodnight.” She all but shoved Dahyun into her room with her good arm. 

____

Sana woke with a terrible cramp in her neck and back. She could only thank the fact that she’d brushed her teeth before Dahyun fell down that ladder. 

The fleeting memory brought her to her senses. She opened her eyes and was blinded by the dim lights. She sat up, letting out a very unladylike sound when her bones popped. She stretched. More pops. 

Thankfully, no one was in the workshop. The workbench was a mess of parts and paper. The tablet Dahyun had given her was propped up with one of the messiest looking plans she’d ever made. 

Still, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks. She stood up, stretched some more, and took in the workshop. She’d spent a good hour yesterday admiring what was already on display or in the process of being made. Dahyun’s words in mind, she hadn’t touched them, let alone taken anything apart. The craftsmanship was impressive. Maybe it was the input of the other mechanic that the guns didn’t look like clumps of metal, or maybe these were actually meant to look good. 

The tablet was also impressive. It was a Kepler model, so the glass wasn’t pristine, it was sometimes a little slow with the settings, but the actual programs made any design process easy. It had a three dimensional mode too. Sana used a holographic tool for that work, but this worked too. She wondered if it was already from the company who’d made it or if Jeongyeon had made any tweaks to it. This crew seemed like the type who would modify a fridge to be just a little more practical or efficient. 

Because she was still alone in the room, she let herself sit back down, think things over properly. The Kepler system was infamous for its black market and the way it allowed criminal activity to flourish. She saw it here too. They were about to (or had they already?) drop off enzymes at an institute and she had no way of knowing if it was a smuggling job or legitimate delivery. They treated the two like they were one and the same.

And yet, she couldn’t find much reason not to trust them. Mina would probably be able to list ten off the top of her head. She’d be right too. If judged by the standards in Earth, she’d feel the same. Yet out here, things seemed so different. They had to be judged a little differently. She knew that the Earth system had its own rotten areas and that business was never absolutely pristine. There was a reason all transportation routes received more guard ships the further away they came. There was a reason she had guards even when her feet were on the Earth’s soil. There was a reason why she’d never been on any of Uranus’ stations. Even Saturn’s were a hazard, because there could be a raid going on at Titan or a revolt on the Rhea station. You knew order would be established again, but until that had happened, no route would ever pass through there—unless they were taking advantage of the unrest. 

Realistically, she’d taken one of the biggest gambles of her life when she revealed her face to Dahyun. Neither Mina or Momo had said anything about it, but she knew they hadn’t been in agreement with it. Her instinct to place her trust in the crew had been right, but it hadn’t been based on much. She'd reached the decision only because they were selling her guns for a lower price. If her parents heard that story…she couldn’t even imagine what they’d think. 

Sana sighed. Her parents. What was going through their minds now? She knew they were worried, but she wondered if they knew the real reason why this was all happening. Mina didn’t know. Sana had watched her closely yesterday when the crew had speculated about who it might have been. While she wasn’t the best at reading people, especially when it came to Mina, she definitely wasn’t terrible. She’d had the feeling the spymaster knew more than she’d been letting on, but yesterday had shown her that she was also at a loss. Like Sana, Mina was proud, but she’d be the first to admit not knowing something. Knowledge was her job. She was one of the best at it—she’d found Sana and Momo. 

She wondered if there had been demands. Their captors had said nothing about it, hadn't even filmed her to show her condition, at least not to her knowledge. They'd just held her and Momo in a cell, occasionally taking one of them out for questioning. It had been about the inner workings of the empire, about the spies, about their finances, and more. They hadn't resorted to torture, for which Sana was extremely grateful. It was a erse thought. They would kill innocents without hesitation, but not torture their prisoners. 

The hiss of the door broke her from her thoughts. In came in someone with crutches. They wore a broad smile. It seemed to light up the entire room. 

“Usually it’s just me who sleeps in here,” Dahyun said. Her eyes went to the table.

Sana looked. It was still an absolute mess. What little she’d seen of the mechanic, she kept things organised. 

“Sorry,” she stood up and started putting the papers together, “I’ll clean that up.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m here to take you out to breakfast.” Somehow, Dahyun's smile brightened. “And by out, I mean a couple metres that way.” She tilted her head to the side. “You can get back to work when you’re finished.” 

Get back to work. 

Not for the first time, Sana found herself returning the smile. Maybe it was because of the trust factor.

“I hope you don’t intend to take that into your arsenal as well.” As the words left , she wondered if that was insensitive of her to say. Here there weren’t many rules of courtesy, that much had been clear the moment she stepped foot on the ship. Even so, she wasn’t sure where the boundaries and limits were here. 

She was about to take it back and apologise when Dahyun laughed. It sounded both deep and light. “As long as I don’t see our guns entering your production line, we’re good there.” She started to go down to the kitchen.

Sana followed. 

“So you prefer paper?” 

“I always use both,” Sana replied. “Putting things on paper,” she trailed off, “it helps me organise my thoughts better.” 

“Also good for your eyes,” she said, a gentler smile on her face. “Or so I’m told.” 

They got into the kitchen. On the table was a collection of synthetic foods, plates, bowls, water, and syn-milk. Sana had only ever tried the last once before. She hated it, but Nayeon seemed to be very enthusiastic with her cereal. An acquired taste?

Tzuyu wasn’t there. She’d looked so tired the day before. Maybe she was sleeping in. Momo and Mina also weren’t up yet. Sana was glad they were also getting some more sleep. They needed it. 

“Morning.” Nayeon grinned. She did that a lot. “Unless you’re those two,” she nodded at Jihyo and Jeongyeon, “it’s dinner for them.” 

“Great pasta by the way,” the pilot said with a smile. “If you don’t mind, we wanna add you to the shift of cooks.”

“Which is a great honour, by the way,” Dahyun said. “Because a few of us can’t cook. Like at all."

Sana smiled again. “I’d love to.” It was a reminder that they were keeping them around. That they were going home. Selfishly, Sana also took it to mean she hadn’t made a mistake when she'd boarded their ship. 

She started to prepare her breakfast, avoiding anything that would need the synthetic milk. What she was left with was some bread and a spread that almost tasted like strawberries. Compared to what she’d been eating in the past weeks, it tasted wonderful. 

“I’m guessing Japan still? Timezone, I mean,” Chaeyoung said.

Sana nodded. People were free to choose what timetable they lived by. But if your day technically took less than 24 hours, it was pretty hard to coordinate anything. Just about everyone stuck to a 24-hour clock, and business was most active during the day of Earth’s Japan. The second most active time was that set to New York. 

“So are we, usually,” Dahyun said. “But most of us're station-types, so we’re pretty flexible.”  

“Station-type?” Sana asked. 

“Born and raised on a station,” she replied. 

“But that’s illegal.” You had to be planet-born. It was mandatory to spend the first years of one’s life in Terran conditions. There were good reasons for it. 

Nayeon gave her that look. The one that wasn’t quite condescension, but was still a strong comment on Sana’s upbringing in and of itself. “We covered this. Your laws don’t really apply here.” 

“But there’s a reason for that law,” Sana insisted. “Sleep schedule aside, you don’t get what’s normal for human beings, like proper day and night cycles, natural vitamin D from the sun, any of it.” Synthetic foods could keep you alive and sustained like normal ones, but they still weren’t the real thing. That was especially the case when it came to fruits, vegetables, and meat. How could they allow such a thing to be the case here?

“You are sounding a lot like Tzuyu,” Chaeyoung smiled, “but most do get the right vitamins.”

“Most stations adhere to a clock and stick to it. Lights and all,” Jihyo added. 

Jeongyeon nodded. “You Minatozakis really made sure we’re all mostly on the same page.”

She wasn’t sure what to make of that remark. It also was completely new to her that some of the people here had never actually lived on a planet. Some people lived on stations for the rest of their lives, yes, but they’d been raised on either Mars or Earth. But to live all your life in a fully artificial environment?

“If you’re wondering,” Dahyun said. “Yes, the station-type thing might be the reason I’m too pale.” She waved a gloved hand at her face. “Kidding, Tzuyu would say stuff about pigments and all that.” A shrug. “I know how machines work, not skin.” 

They mentioned Tzuyu a lot. It wasn’t hard to figure out why, even though Sana had seen so little about her. She had a very stable presence to her. If yesterday was anything to go by, she also looked out for the others. Even if the person was her captain, she’d give out orders like they weren’t technically her superior. And this crew obeyed.

“Now, to business.” Jeongyeon laced her fingers together. That’s when Sana noticed it. She wasn’t wearing gloves. “Do we call you Your Highness, Majesty, or Grace?” 

“Nothing,” Sana said quickly. “I mean, not nothing, but no titles.” 

Dahyun’s brow rose. “You don’t use anything” 

For some reason, she felt her face warm. “We do.” 

Mina and Momo arrived then, sitting down where there was space. Momo sat with Sana, Mina by Nayeon. She didn't look happy about it, but said a quiet 'morning' to them all.

Momo reached for the syn-milk. Although she hadn’t grown up with it, she didn’t seem to mind the taste. Or she just wanted cereal. 

Nayeon grinned. “Now spill. What’re the titles?”

“His/Her Imperial Majesty for my parents,” she said. “Her Imperial Highness for me.” It sounded almost wrong to say now. 

“Yeah,” a toothy grin was sent her way, “I’m not calling you that.”

“Do people actually bow to you?” Chaeyoung asked. 

“It was a tradition even among non-royalty between each other,” Momo said. “I think they were even doing it in the 21st century.”

“But the biggest empire before you were the Romans,” Nayeon replied. “Which was ages ago by the standards of even the 2000s.” She shook her head. “So they actually bow to you.” Her expression made it seem like she was trying not to laugh. 

“Anyway,” Dahyun said. “Could you pass the coffee? It’s in the red one.” She had her leg stretched out behind her. The captain was essentially facing away from the breakfast table. 

Sana poured the coffee into the girl’s mug. Dahyun held a bowl of cereal and syn-milk. She wore gloves. 

She quickly looked around at the rest as she poured herself a coffee. Jihyo, Jeongyeon, and Chaeyoung weren’t wearing gloves. Nayeon was wearing one, on the left hand, while Dahyun wore two. What did that mean?

The mechanic broke her from her thoughts. Again. “Thank you,” she waggled her eyebrows, “Your Imperial Highness.”

She fought a smile as chuckles went around the table, but the gloves weren’t entirely forgotten. During breakfast, she saw how Mina’s eyes strayed on Nayeon’s hands too. She was pretty sure asking about that would cross a line, but maybe Mina already had her own speculations. She usually did. 

____

Author's Note

The other day I tried uploading a chapter and it wasn't working. I had a small panic mode so now I'm slowly putting my stories on Ao3. Am far from doing the same for this one, but if there are ever future issues, I'll be sure to post a link. 

Regardless, Saida have bonded over their shared love for building weapons (a good starting point, I'd say). We're soon to leave the Kepler system. There's just one delivery that has to be made still and then they're off to Earth. 

I will have to admit that my knowledge on space travel and such isn't all-encompassing. I had a moment where I read up madly about space and our solar system, but that's about it. That being said, I hope you are enjoying this story for the plot, the world, and the characters, not the accuracy of the science (though I have tried not to make things outrageously impossible!). 

Thank you for the support you've been giving this story! It's always so much fun to get back to this story. 

See you next chapter!