“Lights,” Bakura Ryou commanded curtly and the lights in his small apartment went on as per his command. He put the heavy book bag down and shed his coat, hanging it on the appropriate coat hanger. Everything was tidy and organized in his apartment, something he inherited from his father. The man had often made a distraught impression, jumpy even, as if he wanted to leave as soon as possible again. To ‘combat’ his distraction, he wanted everything in as much perfect order as possible; obsessively rearranging furniture, clothes, books and all his other belongings to create a system that only he could understand. Ryou didn’t like his apartment being a mess, and had everything perfectly alphabetized and categorized. He had all but mapped out his life - being well prepared was half the work.
First, there was schoolwork to take care of. Ryou picked up his book bag again and emptied it on the large table in the middle of the living room. With a touch of his thumb, he booted his laptop and connected his personal manager applicator to it, downloading the data he collected at the museum. He planned to work on his paper on “former Earth Politics and their influence on Current Interstellar Politics” first. After that, he’d have more than enough time to study the ceremonial tablets. Ryou stifled a yawn. He padded into the kitchen, calling out for the lights to turn on. He fixed himself a sandwich and insta-coffee; a small lunch, but it was sufficient to him.
Five minutes later he finally sat down and started to write down the structure of monarchies and their political liaisons, outlining his paper to his satisfaction. He yawned again. Politics had always been the least of his interests, and writing about it sure didn’t help. Ryou forced himself to write at least six pages, before he took a break from it. He had ignored his sandwich in favor of his concentration on the paper, and he took a firm bite. There was a program running on the background of his laptop, processing the data about the ceremonial tablets. As always, his attention was gearing towards it.
“Open new vidscreen,” he commanded and enlarged the window with a mere touch of his fingers. He wanted to keep oversight and reclined into his chair when the large image was displayed. Not many people knew that he was able to decipher large parts of the inscriptions on the tablet. His father had taught him to read hieroglyphs, passing his love for Ancient Egypt onto him in particular. It wasn’t a 100% accurate translation, but it was definitely a hundred times better than the current translation used by the Museum. Ryou understood the gist of it - the tale of the powerful Pharaoh who was challenged by his Priest, both using impressive magic. Unfortunately, the name of the winner wasn’t surpassed on the tablet. The lower part had been broken off. It was a miracle in itself that these tablets had been salvaged.
Ryou tried to imagine what life was like during the last days of Earth. Not many were aware of the growing danger of the Duel Monsters game and the holographic technology involved. Technology that would be the downfall of the entire planet… or had it been the power of the Gods, called upon during the game? Somehow, a group of people had foreseen the imminent danger and managed to relocate to outer space, taking history with them. How would it be like, how would it feel like to make decisions about what should be saved for posterity, and what not? He’d never been evacuated in his entire life; one day he had to participate in a fire drill, but his fellow students had been joking and goofing off while ‘running’ for their lives. The school building was constructed from fire resistant materials anyway, another invention from Kaiba Corp..
As usual, the insta-coffee tasted horrible, like mucky dishwater. Before his disappearance, his father had brought home genuine Arabic beans, and since then Ryou had acquired a taste for real coffee. But his father wasn’t here, and he wasn’t even sure if the man was still alive. He couldn’t recall the last time he had heard from him. It saddened him, and he didn’t want to admit to himself that his wish to travel mostly stemmed from his longing to search for his father. He didn’t have a ship, or a license to pilot one; he didn’t have the money for it either. He received a very small allowance from a trust fund his father had set up once; Ryou didn’t care for the details. After his mother… and his sister… had gone away, he couldn’t care less about money or details. He’d rather have his family back than his allowance.
“Magnify,” he said as he focused his attention to the Priest on the left side of the tablet. Something was carved in stone above him, some kind of…animal.. guardian angel? There was also something carved above the Pharaoh’s head, but the picture was different; this one was human-like. The one hovering over the Priest was an animal. A lizard of some sorts, Ryou wasn’t sure. He could magnify it to pixel level, but still he couldn’t make heads or tails out of it. The tablet was far too complicated, belonging to a culture that had already been ancient and extinct when the Earth was still around. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
Maybe he was focusing too much on the Priest and the Pharaoh. Their names, or rather the cartouches with their names, weren’t on the tablet - Ryou assumed they were carved into the part that had been broken off. The ceremonial tablet was in a good condition, considering how old it was - but it was incomplete, and that made proper interpretation so difficult.
The first thing he had done when he’d decided to study the tablet, was to go look for the Pharaoh’s name. The closest he’d come, was to narrow his existence down to the 18th dynasty. Ryou drummed with his fingers on the table. He should be paying attention to his paper instead of his…hobby. He wasn’t an university student yet, he simply couldn’t afford to spend this much time on a subject that had nothing to do with his current studies. As soon as he was an Earth Studies major, he could write his thesis on his beloved subject, and spend as much time on it as he wanted.
With a flick of his fingers, the image scrolled up, showing the top of the ceremonial tablet. A smile tugged at his lips. Three images were carved in a specific position; simplified representations of the God Cards: on the left, the dragon called The Sky of God Dragon, Osiris. On the right, the giant The Tormentor, Obelisk, and in the middle, a little elevated above his fellow divine entities, The Sun of God Dragon, Ra, in all its glory. How would the Gods look like in color? It didn’t escape Ryou that the Museum displayed the Gods in the same sequence; Osiris on the left, Obelisk on the right, Ra in the middle. Kaiba’s superior holographic technology made it possible to display the cards, even if they were only pixels and refracted light beams; the real God Cards were, of course, lost to the public.
Ryou laced his slender fingers together. Maybe he had been focusing on the Priest and Pharaoh far too much. How exactly did Kaiba know how the God Cards looked like, in order to display them correctly? Kaiba Corp. was a gigantic business operation that had influence all over the universe, and had sunk its teeth into many branches. There wasn’t a field or expertise where Kaiba Corp. wasn’t represented in. They even produced milk, for crying out loud. The HeadQuarters were located on the planet Altana, which was mockingly called ‘planet Kaiba’, as the large office building, a tower of incredible height, dominated the entire landscape. Besides, only the HeadQuarters, its employees and their dwellings made up for the denizens of Altana; security was strict, and without a Kaiba Corp. employee pass, you simply didn’t get to dock at the spaceport.
For all the power that came with the company, its CEO, Seto Kaiba himself, was notorious for being reclusive. All that was known of him could be summarized in a few lines. He had a younger brother who acted as Vice-President, called Mokuba. He enjoyed gaming (mostly playing chess) and reading. He worked over a hundred hours a week, had no social life, and never honored invitations for parties, balls or anything else where paparazzi could be and catch a glimpse of him. There were a few public pictures available of him, however - it took Ryou less than a second to lift them from the official KaibaCorp. homepage.
He always boggled at the thought that this man was only a year his senior and had accomplished so much. Head of a gigantic business with worldwide branches, with so much influence on each and every planet that it was… awe-inspiring and intimidating. Ryou shivered. No wonder Kaiba didn’t have a social life, he barely had time for anything else but his work! He shivered again. He really needed to get back on his paper and not slack off. His fingers left the keyboard of his laptop, until he noticed the other picture of Kaiba. It was taken from the side, showing his profile.
If he’d had any insta-coffee in his mug left, he probably would’ve choked on it. The picture of Kaiba en profil was just above his enlarged image of the ceremonial tablet, and he feverishly scrolled a little down, until he was at the part with the Priest and Pharaoh again.
“Why haven’t I seen this before?” he stammered. The Priest and Kaiba had all but the same profile. Of course, the Priest was wearing a hat that covered his hair, but the eyes, the nose, the jaw… it wasn’t as farfetched as he originally thought. He could run a program and discover how many facial similarities Kaiba shared with the Priest… his heart started to beat faster.
It was perfectly clear to him now - Kaiba had something to do with the God Cards and was tied to Ancient Egypt. How else would he know what the God Cards looked like for his technology to breathe life into them, and why else would he look like that Priest on the tablet?
His eyes darted over the tablet, back to the Pharaoh. His enthusiasm increased, and he felt as if he was about to make another, very important discovery. If the Priest had a similar…person on this world, in this time, in this age, the Pharaoh would have to have one too! How wonderful would it be if he were to discover that person? Was this coincidence, or reincarnation at work? How was he ever supposed to find someone looking like the Pharaoh? Ryou forgot about his paper, and shoved it aside to pull the laptop more towards him, all but practically landing it onto his lap.
He had been focusing too much on what he had thought was important, but he had forgotten the teachings of his father. Details were important, and the most overlooked, insignificant things often turned out to be key or the final clue to the riddle. The position of the Gods on the tablet might be irrelevant, but they had given him the clue to think about how it was possible to know how the God Cards looked like, and it was KaibaCorp. who had installed the technology. It was KaibaCorp. who had put in all the necessary information to display those Cards, and to do that, they had to know what they looked like. There were no other images of the God Cards but the ones on display at the Museum. Kaiba knew what they looked like. Because he was the reincarnation of a Priest who had at least seen them in a duel with the Pharaoh? Because somehow he possessed a picture of the God Cards that was absolutely unknown to the public?
The Duel Monsters game had been a card game, played on a board with distinctive fields to place the cards. Ryou didn’t know the rules as he had never played it himself - not to mention the game was illegal - but he knew that not many stores sold board games. There was nothing profitable in selling board games; the market was good for computer and console games only.
He searched for stores, his fingers dancing across the keyboard, tapping and clicking at the keys. He couldn’t recall the many times he’d been just staring at the tablet, staring and staring and wondering how to interprete the hieroglyphs, the carvings… but now that he had a lead, a new and exciting trail towards solving the mystery, his excitement took over. This was what his father must’ve felt when he was working on his many projects - the discovery of something new, something that could explain history, another piece of the puzzle that had been uncovered!
A list of gameshops appeared on his screen; a simple search and find command, and he eliminated all the stores that were known for selling computer and console games only, leaving him with a handfull of ‘old fashioned’ stores; the one still selling board games. Maybe they even sold illegal Duel Monsters card games. Ryou suddenly shot up and looked around him, as if someone had been peeking over his shoulder. It was only his imagination, and he chuckled at the absurdity of his thoughts.
Then it hit home; even if he had found board games selling stores, that didn’t mean he could visit them, waltz in and look for himself if there were people around knowing about Duel Monsters and hey, had they seen anyone looking like an ancient Pharaoh, perhaps?
It was hard to deal with the wave of disappointment. He had to study hard to be accepted at the university of his choice, and here he was, his mind running off with insane theories. He couldn’t afford to visit these stores, he couldn’t even afford calling them. He could send them electronic mail, but he was dependent on their goodwill to answer. Morosely, he stared at he list. If only… if he was an university student and majoring, he would get access to a research fund. It was a small amount of money, but he could use it for his research on the ceremonial tablet, and he could buy himself a ticket to… his finger tapped at the list… Vertregg 12 and visit a simple GameShop owned by a ‘Mutou, S’. It was the closest to his home planet.
It had to wait for now, frustratingly as it was. Ryou shoved the laptop away from him, and sighed when he saw his paper lying in the corner of the table. Reluctantly, he reached for it. At least he had ‘established’ some kind of connection between Kaiba, the God Cards, and the Priest. That was sufficient enough for him to not let it go… not for a long time.
Wremmoor’s spaceport was large, brightly lit and surprisingly clean; an ironic contrast with the general shady population who liked to keep their businesses secret and hidden from too-much-seeing eyes. The colorful billboards and loud, repetetive commercials on humongous vidscreens all tried to compel people into buying make up, cigarettes, energy drinks or the latest gossip magazine; to any naïve traveler, Wremmoor looked like a nice, dandy place to be.
Jounouchi, Honda and Otogi knew better. They left the Time Wizard docked and safely secured, with Honda installing extra alarm systems on the fly. Unlike any other spaceport, no tags or numbers had to be registered on Wremmoor, which meant that in case of your spaceship being stolen, no insurance would cover it…and no police would be involved either. This was one of the few places no government or military force, not even Kaiba Corp., had any grip or influence on; it was a haven for thieves, smugglers, beggars and other criminals. Stolen was stolen, murder was murder - for no police or any authority in power, Wremmoor was pretty self-regulating without too much bloodshed, amazingly enough.
The only identifcation system was the general laser verification system, or LVS for short. It was nothing but a charade, the only effort to keep things above the radar. When asked around, this planet was a picture perfect of law-abiding people. Nothing less was true, of course. As soon as they left the spaceport, people were gauging them, eyes darting back and forth. Strong men, hired as muscle power to accompany people to their destination. Cheap whores looking to make some extra genz, or any other currency. Dirty scum, handy little fences who offered cheap knock-offs, or expensive brand products that had ‘slipped through customs’ for extremely low prices.
Jounouchi was used to deal with scum and thugs. The key was to radiate confidence; he walked straight, no shoulders slouched, and looked everyone intending to approach him straight in the eyes, so they started to shuffle around, almost embarrassed, muttering something under their breath. Anyone weak or insecure would be eaten alive on this planet. It was a good thing that The Square Circle was so close to the spaceport; Jounouchi didn’t feel like descending into the abyss of human rejects who made their money preying on people or who plunked a knife between your ribs for just a few cents.
Honda and Otogi followed him, not only because he was the team leader, but also because he knew his way around here. Honda had been on Wremmoor before, but not Otogi; he refrained from looking as if this was his first visit here. He wasn’t a newbie open to tricks and the bad side of interstellar trade, naïve and ready to believe that the gold watches he was shown were really offered this cheap because they were ‘a little damaged’, but he shook his head at seeing all the fences and shady dealers. Wremmoor really was one of a kind.
Pushing open the door to the bar, Jounouchi quickly looked around to see if he could spot Mai. She had made The Square Circle her ‘base’, simply because it was the first bar when leaving the spaceport and it caught most of the travelers. She had contacts all over the planet, using her good and very defined looks to get to know what she wanted to know. Nobody suspected that she was working for Kaiba and his intelligence service, just like Jounouchi and his crew; if so, she had to get away as soon as possible. Wremmoor didn’t like tattletales.
He saw her sitting in the corner, her back turned to him. A green voran was next to her; he knew Mai liked her drinks artificial and sweet. Jounouchi walked up to her and tapped her lightly on the shoulder.
“Mai,” he said. She looked up, her face slightly annoyed at the intrusion, hands on her PMA to avoid curious eyes. She immediately broke out in a warm smile when she saw him and she got up, immediately wrapping her arms around him, taking him into a bone-crushing hug while repeating his name over and over again.
“Jounouchi! Jounouchi! Nobody would tell me if you were on your way, and I…” She pressed her lips on his, and he enthusiastically returned the gestures, his hands unabashedly sliding lower along her backside. They were so lost in their kisses, that a sudden cough startled them.
“Honda, Otogi, so good to see you,” Mai said when she peeked over Jounouchi’s shoulder and saw the rest of the crew. Honda took away his hand he’d held in front of his mouth, whereas Otogi was simply grinning.
“Mai,” Honda mock-bowed to her, “always a pleasure to see you.”
“Mai,” Otogi spoke with his most suave voice, “your presence makes this hellhole look like heaven.” It was a good thing the burly man behind the bar didn’t overhear him.
She flicked a long, blonde strand over her shoulder, smiling at the two of them. She knew how well this team worked together, for which she was thankful - in their line of work, you needed someone to watch your back, and preferably someone you knew and trusted well. The team of the Time Wizard was known for its good results and its high ranking at Kaiba Corp..
Honda smirked and looked at Otogi. “Come my friend, we’ll leave the lovebirds alone.”
“We’ll meet back here,” Otogi nodded. They could use their time to gather more information on Ishtar and leave Jounouchi to have some private time with his girlfriend.
“All right,” Jounouchi said, ignoring the large grins on his friends’faces. He knew the goal of their mission, and despite Mai being his girlfriend, he wouldn’t lose track of that goal; but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spend an hour or so with her. The best thing, probably the single best thing, about working for KaibaCorp. was that management and Seto Kaiba himself didn’t care how results were obtained, as long as there were results.
“Wait,” Mai suddenly said as the others were about to turn around. Honda lifted his eyebrow.
She hesitated. “If you…” she lowered her voice, “if you’re going to look for Ishtar, for which I take it you’re here for… I don’t think he’s docked at the spaceport anymore, but should you meet him, somehow.. the other one, not Ishtar himself…” She shook her head.
They were aware of the ‘other one’ wearing weapons on display, something that even on Wremmoor was quite unheard of.
“We’ll be careful,” Honda said and Otogi made a V-sign with his fingers, showing once again a confident grin.
“He seriously scared the hell out of me,” Mai said. “Be very, very careful.”
Both men nodded and left the bar. Jounouchi looked at their retreating backs. He wasn’t afraid that his crew would end up in danger; Honda and Otogi knew better, but he was sometimes afraid that Otogi would get himself the short end of the stick one of these days. He relied too much on his good looks, his quick wits and suave talk; he was a strategic genius, but not a weapon expert like Honda. On the other hand, Honda was quick to draw weapons instead of trying a diplomatic approach; maybe he should just go with them to make sure that…
…Mai’s hand was on his cheek, turning his face towards her again, and he forgot about Honda and Otogi. She flicked out her tongue, running along her upper lip.
“We need to talk.”
“Let’s go up,” she winked at him. The Square Circle rented rooms by the hour for travellers to rest up, or for couples to meet outside of the more… traditional environments, or for anyone who needed a room, from fifteen minutes or fifty days. Nobody asked, as long as you paid - and that was exactly what Mai needed.
They took the zip lift to the fourth floor and Mai went ahead, leading him to the end of the hallway. It reeked of piss and vomit, and Jounouchi could smell the scents of home-cooked drugs. This place was a goldmine if he would do a bust and arrest everyone. This was no place for Mai, yet she had accepted it without complaint. He owed her big time.
He stepped into the room, inhaling the wonderful scent of flowers. There weren’t any bouquets on the rickety table; she had put a lot of air refreshers on the only shelf in the room. She closed the door behind him and pushed him to the middle of the room, where he bumped against the bed.
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asked. Her luscious lips moved in an angry fashion. “Really Jounouchi, I love seeing you here, and yes, I’m going to rip the clothes off of you in an instant, but first I want to know how long I have to stay here!”
Before he could say anything, she pushed at him so he fell onto the bed. Her pretty face was scrunched up in disapproval and resentment.
“I hate it here,” she said. “The smell, the people…I never thought I missed Altana, but I’d give my arm to be back at my paper-pushing job again.”
“You’re not the kind of girl to work a 9 to 5 job, Mai,” Jounouchi said.
“What do you mean by that?” She asked, eyes blazing. “That I’m too stupid to work a desk job?”
He lifted up his hands in defense. “You know I don’t mean that, and you know it. I was already dating you when you were still working as a secretary, remember? And didn’t we have our first fight because all you could do was whine and bitch about your dead-end job?”
“Don’t even go there, Jounouchi, or you can leave..!”
“Not before you rip my clothes off,” he said smugly. “Face it, Mai, you’re born for adventure, and that’s why I recommended you to work for Kaiba, not his HeadQuarters.” He sounded a little downtrodden. “Though I wish I hadn’t.”
Mai crossed her arms in front of her chest, unconsciously stressing the volume and curves of her breasts. “I’m not blaming you,” she said, “I jumped at the first opportunity to leave that awful office behind, to leave that awful army of secretary drones behind. It’s not your fault. I should’ve thought about it better and longer.”
She tilted her head. “You know, you never told me why exactly you work for Kaiba.”
Jounouchi didn’t answer but put his hands behind his head, goofily grinning at her.
“I’m serious,” she said as she leaned a little forward, her tight blouse stressing the outline of her chest even more. This was conscious, and despite her claim of being serious, her lips had curled into a devious, sexy smile.
“In this line of work, I can only tell you for sure that not a single day is the same, and that Kaiba decided where you go to and where not.”
“Kaiba, Kaiba,” she spat his name. “He can dish out the orders, but he doesn’t have to take any! I thought my mission here was over when identifying that Ishtar creep. What does he think there’s left for me to do here, except for turning away people who want to have ‘a good time’ with me?” She snorted.
“Is anyone harassing you?” Jounouchi said, narrowing his eyes.
“Oh please,” Mai said. “Come on! A single, good looking woman in a bustier and a mini-skirt, in a bar like The Square Circle! Do I have to draw you a map?”
“What did Kaiba said as soon as you called in your report?” Jounouchi gritted.
“He told me to await my orders.”
Either Kaiba expected Ishtar to be back at some time, or this was just him riling the both of them. Jounouchi was well aware of Kaiba’s dislike for him, and the CEO knew that they were involved with each other. He grunted something incomprehensible; Ishtar and his weapon-carrying friend docked at Wremmoor for its lack of governmental control in the first place. Hopefully Otogi and Honda could find out if they were regular visitors. If Mai had to wait all the time for them…
“I’m sorry for the wait,” he said. “I’m doing my best to get you out of here as soon as possible.” He hadn’t even told Mai of his sister; the Shizuka Kawaii she knew was just a girl from Human Resources to her. He could try to pull strings with Shizuka; Kaiba didn’t know she was his sister either, and he wanted to keep it that way. He owed Kaiba something, but not his entire life or family. He would find a way to get things sorted out. His eyes focused back on Mai, who was slowly undoing the strings of her bustier.
“How about we don’t talk about work for a while..?” She said.
Bakura stared at the two identical people in front of him. No, not identical. An Alternate and an Other, and they had found each other. It sounded so sappy and romantic, that he had to grin. There was nothing sappy or romantic about Marik, the Alternate, let alone Malik, the Other. Marik wasn’t even supposed to exist, but yet there he was, exactly the same as Bakura had seen him the last time…which was so long ago that he barely could remember it.
“Age hasn’t been kind to you, Ishtar,” he said, even though he knew that age had no hold on the both of them - Bakura and Marik, that was. Malik was human, and subject to the natural law; he would age.
“Cut the crap, Bakura.” Marik didn’t sugarcoat words, as usual. The thief had missed the man’s cruelty and bluntness. “What were you doing on Wremmoor?”
“It’s what I do.” He shrugged. “Thieving, rummaging around, going about my business, until I ran into you.” His fingers started trailing up and down the wristlock. The thing was heavy and it was suppressing his powers. Not that he could call forth or use any of his beloved shadows; they wouldn’t help much in the cold vastness of outer space.
“Did you find your Other?”
Malik looked confused, despite addressing Bakura earlier with his rightful title of Thief King. That meant he knew a little, but not everything. Bakura’s grin turned wider. He was intelligent and had very quick wits. Marik was too much of a cruel force to pay attention to details or subtetlies. Bakura on the other hand, saw his advantage in every gesture or change in attitude, and Malik’s confused look told him enough. Knowing Marik, he would’ve told his Other only the bare neccesities; there was his opportunity to get between those two. Manipulating had always been his forte.
“Someday I will.” Bakura shrugged again. He shook his arm; he didn’t like being constrained. Why the fuck Marik needed to be so handy with electronical things, he didn’t know, but he the only one capable of inventing a device that would suppress his powers. It was infuriating.
“What about the other One?”
“I don’t know where he is. Look, I’m not here to answer your questions,” Bakura snapped.
“Fine. Rot in here as much as you like.” Marik immediately turned around and grabbed Malik tightly at his upper arm, all but yanking him out of the little cell.
“Fuck you too, Isthar!” Bakura yelled, holding up his hands. “Get this fucking wristlock off of me or I’ll snap your fucking neck!”
“You’re welcome to try,” Marik answered him deadpan, not in the least impressed. “You’re on board the October now, Bakura, and there’s no way you can get out or off.”
“You fucking piece of bastard shit asshole!” Bakura screamed. The door closed. The thief dropped to his knees, but not in desperation. He felt tired, and the heavy wristlock didn’t help much. Muttering a few curses under his breath, he realized that Malik had left the tray in the corner and he crawled towards it. There was nothing on it that he could use; a large bowl filled with water, a washcloth, a bar of soap - Malik hadn’t been joking when he had said that he’d brought him something to freshen up. The cup next to it held a liquid that he didn’t recognize; it was ‘something for his throat’, as the kid had said. Marik had almost crushed his throat when holding him up high. If he had a mirror, he could check for bruises.
“Fucking asshole,” Bakura repeated. He touched his neck for a brief moment and then padded his upper body, realizing he had been stripped of his black trench coat…with all the hidden pockets and his tools. Of course, Marik knew him. He knew him so well, that he had searched and emptied every pocket. Bakura checked himself and all the hidden places on his body, but to no avail. He started muttering, but he suddenly realized something.
The door had closed, but not locked. Curiously, he moved to the door and touched it - it opened. The thief wasn’t as stupid as to think that Marik had forgotten to lock it. He knew that Bakura was powerless, thanks to the wristlock and bereft of his tools; besides, he was right, there was no way he could get out or off. The October didn’t have the luxury of escape pods. A large cargo ship like this was actually required by law to have one, but since when was Marik abiding the law?
Heaving a sigh, Bakura decided to go to the right, guessing that the cockpit was on that side. He couldn’t remember the last time he was aboard this ship, and he had forgotten about its layout. The heavy thrumming of the engines felt familiar, though. It had always been a mystery to him why Marik had built himself such a large, monstruous ship. Bakura prefered to travel light and fast - Marik couldn’t care less about his ship being conspicuous, easy recognizable. But the man’s reasoning was often insane, beyond comprehension, and Bakura had given up on trying to dig for any deeper meaning behind his words or actions. Maybe the only other One left would care to try…
The lights were on and Bakura had no difficulties finding his way. His guess had been right; he went past the living quarters, kitchen, laundry and washing room before reaching the cockpit. The door was wide open. No, Marik hadn’t forgotten to lock the cell door; he was simply counting on Bakura to get out and come up to the cockpit. He gritted his teeth. He didn’t like it when others had a headstart on him.
Without as much as a word, he stepped up to the small platform and plopped himself down in the chair next to Marik, who had his eyes fixed on the panel in front of him. Too much lights, meters and gauges, to Bakura’s taste; he had no idea where half of all the buttons were for.
“What happened to the kid?” he asked, as he didn’t see Malik around.
“I send him to bed,” Marik answered gruffly.
Bakura laughed. “Really?”
“He didn’t need to hear what we’re about to discuss.”
“When are you going to tell him?”
“He knows enough.”
Bakura licked his lips. As usual, Marik was wearing weapons on display, and he wasn’t disappointing him now either. The gun in the holster strapped to his left leg was all but inviting, no, begging him to be stolen.
“Don’t you even think of it,” Marik said. “I don’t need to remind you what a bullet can do to the hull of the ship, and I’m not ready to be sucked into outer space just yet. And no, I’m not going to set a course to wherever you want to go.”
“So, what is the current course?” Bakura asked. Marik didn’t look at him, not even once.
“You’ll see it when we get there.”
“You’re still one hell of a grouchy fuck.”
“You haven’t fucked me in a millennium.”
“What, are you keeping score?”
“Just shut the fuck up, Bakura.”
“If you have a course already, then you know where to find the other One.”
“We have a problem,” Marik said, ignoring Bakura’s words.
“You have more than one..”
“Shut the fuck up, Bakura, or I’ll put some high voltage on your wristlock.”
He wasn’t kidding. The thief straightened himself into the chair and admitted temporary defeat.
“Fine. What is it?”
“This Other has a price on his head,” Marik said. “Five million genz.”
Bakura whistled.
“His family is quite persistent, and I don’t know whether to kill them or every bounty hunter that’s after us.”
“Have you run into some of them already?”
“Word is, that KaibaCorp. is on our ass,” Marik said.
“KaibaCorp.? Isn’t that a multi-gazillion corporation with branches on every known planet?”
“Apparently, they also have some kind of secret police that deals with renegades, and collect bounties on them. Of course, this is all officially denied. KaibaCorp. isn’t to be associated with such dirty business,” Marik half-grinned, “but believe me, there’s enough dirt on the corporation if only someone was willing to talk.”
“They wouldn’t even tell you on Wremmoor, huh?” Bakura said.
“I need more information on this KaibaCorp. and their bounty hunters. I’ll deal with them. In the meantime, wherever we go, we get in trouble, and that hampers our search for the other One.”
“Maybe you should think about getting a haircut and a new style to dress up in,” Bakura suggested. As always, Marik’s pupil-less eyes were both bland and dangerous at the same time when he looked at him. Bakura didn’t know how he did it; but there was such malice and hatred coming from those eyes that it even terrified him.
“You haven’t even found your Other yet. You have no right to criticize me.”
“Let’s just help each other,” Bakura said and winced mentally. He didn’t work well with others, but if there was some profit to be made… “If you help me to find my Other, we can help you to find the last One, and maybe…”
“No,” Marik said. “You’re out on the first spaceport we encounter, Bakura, no matter what shitty spaceport it is.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Is either that or out the airlock with you,” Marik said and showed a disturbingly happy grin. Bakura huffed.
“Fine. Say… what do you think of unlocking this thing, mmm?” He moved his arm with the wristlock again. “It’s heavy as hell.”
“No.” Marik said. “There’s a cot around here somewhere. Go get yourself some sleep.”
“How kind of you,” Bakura said. “How many times have I wished for you to rot in hell?”
“More than enough,” Marik answered and stared at the panel again, unperturbed. “You would only miss me, Bakura. Go to bed.”
Chapter 4 | Chapter 6