Lyntael managed to perform her panicked magic trick without an audience. Regardless of how she felt about the state of the Wanderlust, she’d surely be pleased it was nearly empty for this particular purpose. When she did re-enter the hall, she might be self-consciously expecting all eyes to be on her, searching for the minute difference that would reveal she’d just done something inappropriate. If so, however, she’d find to her relief that all eyes seemed focused on the starting presentation.

That said, when Lyntael returned to Sign after her speech, the other woman’s eyes did momentarily dart behind her glasses to the smaller woman’s hip before she responded, not missing a beat. “He did, did he? Not surprising.” Her face matched her words, with a level brow and an even frown as she kept her attention on the important business of ChronicleMan’s opening. “Thanks, I’ll do so.”

After Lynn departed for Memora’s table, the woman watched Lynn introduce herself with a bemused smile, still resting her chin on the back of one hand, then chuckled. “Ha, if I hadn’t already had the cruise of a lifetime aboard the previous Wanderlust, this would rank as my most bizarre. That Tango really didn’t think about how this would come together at all, hm? Your attendant speech doesn’t go with this old crook rambling on about money, Lynn. That man you mentioned… Well, he doesn’t look bad, and if he asked you to ask me to ask you for him, tell him his invitation’s accepted. He should know, though that my ‘senses’ really need to pay attention to what ChronicleMan’s going on about.” For what it was worth, it seemed like Memora’s attention really was on the business side of this cruise.

---

Mara continued to have MerchMan’s attention as she drifted away from him, although he did give her a kind of wry smile. “Hey, hey, so that ‘emperor’s treatment’ really was getting fed grapes and stuff, huh? Well, if it’s a lady like you, I won’t say no to it. Probably the most excitement I’m gonna get on this ghost ship, anyhow.”

The odds of Takeout having any fine vegetarian dining probably seemed slim. Nonetheless, she gave a ready grin when she was asked. “Sure we do! Takeout has both veggies and fruit. Fast food is ahead of the curve these days, kehehe…” The strange young lady turned back to the freezer and pulled salads out of the back. Even before being frozen, they looked about as cheap as you’d expect a fast food salad to, and now that they’d been frozen, it wasn’t hard to see why they’d been left in the freezer during the earlier rush to get the serving line set up. “And for fruit: apple slices!” Takeout took a bunch of chilly plastic baggies of apple slices, the dried kind that were sometimes seen with kids’ meals, then tossed them Mara’s way like throwing stars. Really, scarily like throwing stars… It seemed like something she’d practiced, for whatever reason.

Needless to say, despite Takeout’s offer to “help,” Mara would probably still want to send that message for additional provisions to Yasu.

When Mara returned from doing so, MerchMan was resting with his head on the counter in front of him like a kid. He perked it back up at her approach, though, seeming eager for more conversation. “Hell, I dunno if any of them know about the merchandise. But yeah, my stuff is obviously the best on the market. Not to mention, the only legal stuff on the market, now! Hahahaaha! Oh man, those amateurs are gonna learn a tough lesson about copyright law, for sure. Anyway, forget about all those other dopes! Who knows or cares what they’ve got to say about anything? How about you and I go back to my cabin, and we talk about how I can start making my first line of Mara merch? I might need to see a bit more for reference, though… Just to make sure we’re making the best fan-goods possible, of course.” This time, he took the lead, grabbing for Mara’s hand and stroking it meaningfully (and clumsily) if she let him.

---

Quote (Yasu.EXE)

Lyntael, your advice is noted. You seem to have a handle on how to deal with them. Talking with Tango is proving to be a challenge, but I am determined to do so without resorting to dance. I will exert my influence and have this insufferable person respect my authority as a general. Continue to monitor and report the situation with the BOC.

Suzume, I believe Dee already has appropriate provisions in mind. As an aside, my understanding is you are all in disguise. I have told Dee that each of you is disguised as waitstaff, and instructed her to tell the unaffiliated help bringing the food as little as possible. They should leave swiftly after accomplishing their task.

Magistrate, thank you for the briefing. I do not believe ReservoirMan is a concern for the reasons you’ve noted. Do not take any rash action. At this time, my judgment is that even a successful covert operation of that type would have unacceptable consequences. I’m counting on you to keep that sword in its sheathe, and to be a model example for our new recruit in that matter. Keep in mind the Shogun’s order is not simply a public-facing appearance: it is intended as a directive to all of his soldiers. Violence must be a last resort for us.

---

Everyone seemed as eager to get the processions started as ChronicleMan himself, so without further ado, he cleared his throat noisily and began speaking into the microphone. “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Since the good Signatory has been kind enough to give her quaint introduction, I will keep my own introduction as succinct as possible. As the esteemed leader-“

“Boo!!” Raptor shouted rowdily from her nearby table.

“As the esteemed! Leader!” ChronicleMan raised his voice petulantly, his voice rising temporarily to a squawk. “I will present my case first. Now, the more observant among you in the audience may have noted the unfortunate limp I carry. It has been my bane and curse since the tragic and unprovoked vehicular assault by a member of the Neo-Shogun Empire at that time… who remains in that position, even to this day!” The man paused for dramatic effect, leaning forward on the podium and glancing around the room as though expecting teary eyes. “Ahem. It is no secret that the Neo-Shogun member Escort is known to wield limousines as a weapon in combat. It is my belief, backed up by witness accounts, that in the service of a secret operation, this Escort committed attempted vehicular Navi-slaughter, simply because I was in her way! Innocently minding my own business!” Looking around and seeing the room still silent, he cleared his throat yet again. “Yes, well… Raptor and TribalMan will support my account. I open the floor to any discussion.”

Sign immediately rose from her seat, adjusting her glasses before crossing her large gauntlets beneath her modest chest. “You have witnesses other than Raptor and TribalMan who will attest to that register of events?”

ChronicleMan glared at her, although he kept his grin on. “Ah… That’s necessary, is it?”

“It would be highly preferable to have the testimony of witnesses not directly affiliated with our organization or yourself, yes.”

“Aha… Well, luckily, there are many such who will provide such testimony-“

“Who haven’t been paid by you? Or, more pointedly, were not being paid by you during or since that event…?”

ChronicleMan’s wooden smile fell further as he rubbed his chin. “Well… M-most of them were only paid once, and not very handsomely-“

“Yes, well, we’re going to need their testimony to counter the other witnesses at the event, who claim they were paid to act as, quote unquote, ‘a gang of street toughs to menace civilians with numbers in a back alley outside a strip club,’ which is where you were seen to be hit… And is where you later appeared, without a limp, inside the strip club along with your cohorts. According to this testimony.”

ChronicleMan’s grin grew tight as he took his monocle from his face and polished it, obviously holding back a curse. “And you would trust the words of a self-proclaimed hired street tough over an elderly and afflicted gentleman such as myself?”

“It’s not about whether I will or not,” Sign replied with a sigh, straightening her own glasses again. “Please keep in mind I am not here for an adversarial relationship with you. Because I will be building your legal defense, I need to understand every facet of the case in total factuality to understand what can be brought against you.”

“It is just as I said,” ChronicleMan repeated, smiling sweetly. “My character is unimpeachable.”

“… Very well. Ahem, I’ll proceed with a summary of the… absent MerchMan’s case details,” she added with a weary sigh barely restrained. “In the past, when the Neo-Shogun moved to become a public-facing entity with marketable personalities, we expressed interest in claiming the copyright to the animated or drawn form of their officers in digital or print goods, sensing the reasonable business opportunity. At that time, no appropriate copyrights had been sought on any of the intellectual property of the NeoShogun army, including the name. We made several appropriate contents to contact their head of market outreach at the time… Or, rather, their highest ranking subordinate, who was handling business communications at the time. On the only successful attempt at contact, upon describing our aims, the topic of discussion was dismissed by the other party as ‘cartoons, childish nonsense unworthy of the Shogun’s time or my own.’ After many following unsuccessful attempts at contact, we sought and obtained the copyrights. Since then, a large number of legally counterfeit fan works infringing on our license have been sold and distributed, many on NeoShogunate property. Our claim will move to obtain back damages from the harm the unauthorized goods have already inflicted on our business, as well as force the immediate distribution of such goods. We will then reach out in a good faith attempt to the NeoShogun Empire to discuss an asking price by which they might claim control over our copyright… And, if we do not come to terms, at that time, we may consider appropriate alternate avenues of monetizing the animated or drawn form of NeoShogun officers. Ah, as an aside, please note that this only applies to ranked officers in the NeoShogun empire. We have no copyright on the appearances of their subordinates. Thank you.” The woman sat down and took a big sip of her water.

Memora was the one to speak up. “That’s funny… You say you don’t own the rights to their subordinates? But aren’t there quite a lot of goods MerchMan is carrying around with the faces of some of those subordinates?”
“Mm. Good question. MerchMan is not selling or distributing those goods, although he has produced them. They’re simply fan-goods for characters no one owns the copyright to. I asked him not to bring those in order to avoid confusing the case, but…” Sign gave a small smile while grinding her tightly clasped hands resting on the table. “Anyone else?”

ChronicleMan spoke with an inappropriately sweet smile from the podium. “I would just like to point out for the record how patently absurd it is that you’re poo-pooing my vehicular injury case while confidently promoting your case on the oh-so-critical concern of cartoons!”

“Anyone else?” Sign spoke again without responding.

Memora and ArmoryMan looked at each other, almost as if having a silent conversation. Finally, ArmoryMan spoke up. “Yeah… Not sure how comfortable I am speaking about all this here. Something smells wrong. Also, those two cases sound about as lucrative as pop-gun sales. I’m gonna keep my case private with you, if that’s all the same, ma’am.”

“Same here,” Memora spoke up with an apologetic shrug.

“… In that case, I suppose business will be over more quickly than expected,” Sign noted, adjusting her glasses. “I’m going to make sure MerchMan has no final comments. The rest of you, feel free to discuss as you will, but please be prepared to repeat any comments you’d prefer to be on the record upon my return.”

As soon as she was gone, ChronicleMan (notably sans-limp) clattered over to the edge of the stage and began hissing at his “subordinates” with irate whispers.

ArmoryMan rested his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand contemplatively. “Pretty damn sure we’re forgetting something…” he muttered, apparently to himself.

Memora seemed like she was willing to pay Corrin some attention now if he was still up for a little flirting, but Corrin might have something else on his mind… During the presentation, someone had suddenly tapped him on the shoulder, then retreated hastily to the exit, back into the entrance hall. If he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of the stranger’s form from behind, he’d note her to be a woman with long, blonde hair and a familiar, pleasantly curvy body, clad in a long, blue, tropical-patterned skirt, a matching bikini top, and sandals. When the door swung open for her to leave, he’d get a glimpse at what looked like a large (two-person) serving cart with a white tablecloth draped over it to hide its contents.

Seeing he’d have to wait at least a moment longer for Raptor and TribalMan to return, ChronicleMan sighed and took a seat again, the bookmark-tassel of his cap flopping limply with his rapid descent. “Oh, yes, the point of this organization is that we all have such grievances. It would please me if each of these aggrieved individuals present had also been hit by vehicles with reckless Neo-Shogunate nitwits behind the wheel,” the elder added, either not knowing or not caring how that sounded. “However, in all likelihood, theirs is a more trifling collection of miscellaneous fiddle-faddle. Well, the two of us will find out the exact nature together, hm?”

If Lyntael was worried about exposing her vulnerability to ChronicleMan, she probably didn’t have to worry too hard; whether it was his old “limousine hip” acting up or simply a renewed desire to get behind the podium and command the room, the Navi’s slightly distracted attention had become slightly attentive distraction. He nodded absently and affirmatively along at such appropriate moments as “it’s a bit scary,” “I’d probably get killed,” and so on. By the same token, at least, his mind had wandered so far by the time the food was out that he didn’t seem to notice either Lyntael’s growl or her apology, since he was determinedly flagging down the server to get his cohorts from the kitchen.

When someone had set about doing what he wanted, Lyntael had half his attention once more. “Hoho! It sounds like you certainly got more than you bargained for. Take a lesson from a seasoned elder who’s been around the NetSquare once or twice: Always have a goal and a reward in mind when you set out to do something. Never do anything, whether working, relaxing, or even casually conversing without keeping in mind what it is you want! That way, you’ll live a rich, storied life with never a moment wasted.” The man gave another inappropriately warm smile, letting the implications of his words hang, perhaps not realizing they might beg any follow-up. “Well! I’m certainly eager to hear the very fine details of that dangerous life of yours, but I’d say it’s about time to begin…”

ChronicleMan was noting Nikki returning with Raptor and TribalMan. Both were satisfied from their meal, but either of them would probably have been happy to hang out in the kitchen ducking their “boss.”

Things seemed like they were about to get started, but before they could, Signatory briskly walked back to Lynn. It didn’t look like she’d managed to get Cynthia to sign, and, furthermore, she’d recognized that she was being avoided, so she apparently intended to take care of another matter. “Ahem. Lynn. As the discussion begins, I’ll likely be tied up in the business. I passed on the fast food, no appetite for it, but if they’re serving something vegetarian later, I’d be interested. You should make sure you save yourself some time to eat, if you need it… Also…” She tapered off, then leaned in to whisper to the other woman. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of your uniform trouble. Be sure not to show any compromise around that MerchMan. He’d definitely take that as a sign you were trying to catch his attention, that empty-headed, womanizing moron…” She leaned away again, then took her seat once more, folding her hands and looking very professional.

---

Cynthia chose to search the ship, and she would likely be stricken by how completely devoid of other life it was. The cruise ship, like the original Wanderlust, was sized for much more than just the BOC, and a great portion of it was unused. As Cynthia traveled from deck to deck, she didn’t run into a single other person… Eventually, however, she came to the main exterior. She’d see there a shuffleboard deck, which, with a little studying of the hinges around the sides, could be easily interpreted to be serving double duty as a cargo deck. Quite a strange feature for a cruise ship…

Of course, Cynthia now had the context to understand what was inside that cargo hatch. She could hear some muted grumbling coming from inside. It was probably worth considering if there was really any point in entering that sour lion’s den… Sign had hint-hinted this guest was best left alone. However, if she did want to, there was a control panel on a nearby wall which displayed “CREW ONLY,” and a clearly-marked switch would be simple to find. Seeing as she was the closest thing this vessel had to “crew” right now, there probably wasn’t any harm.

It might also occur to Cynthia that unless Tango had taken to hiding in another guest room, the only place left on the ship that she’d likely be is her own room. In all likelihood, the pair had returned there upon departing. It was easy to imagine them dancing by themselves… Actually, that was probably the only thing one could imagine them doing with their free time.

Another thing Cynthia would become clearly aware of as she stood on the deck is that the very still water they’d all seen outside the windows was not just simply calm: the ship was, in fact, not moving. A bit of a bummer if one was hoping to enjoy a sea breeze, but it made sense, considering the ship was basically unstaffed.

---

As Raptor and TribalMan were leaving the kitchen, Mara was continuing to work her charms on MerchMan. He shouted out to the two as they left. “Hey you two, would you let the egghead know I’m busy back here and the meeting can go ahead and start without me? She already knows all my biz anyway.”

There wasn’t any evidence they heard or planned to comply, but they weren’t stopping and he wasn’t stopping them. Instead, MerchMan was left to a private conversation… with as many as four other people possibly listening, not counting operators or Takeout, who was busy on her phone again and didn’t seem to care to listen in.

“Well, me, I’m just a businessman, you know, an entrepreneur. Sign and I tend to work together a lot. I guess you could call me the genius, with the flashes of inspiration to seek out new opportunities, and she’s the brains, with the paperwork and the calculator and all the nerdy stuff. Working together, we’ve turned me into one of the premier merchandise licensing forces on the Net, while she’s split off a bit to work on expanding her law practice. Whatever. The point is, she’s the only one of these bozos I know. They’re basically here to, uh… Well, I don’t know all the little details, but I think it’s like we’ll strengthen our case with a shotgun approach, burying them in the legal system or something. So, really, it’s like they’re all tagalongs on my own completely solid case. Needless to say, I’m not too worried about making nice with people like that. Especially that old man, the guy that doesn’t know his book-head from his bookend, acting like he’s in charge of all this…”

MerchMan paused his rambling to quickly dip and munch another couple of fries, then flashed Mara an expectant grin. “Say, so, didn’t you mention some special service earlier? I assume you weren’t talking about, uh, this.” The man gestured at the plate in front of him with his hands spread. “A romantic cruise ship like this with a lovely lady like yourself… I bet you’ve got all kinds of experience satisfying customers, don’t you? If you’ve got any nicer services worth tipping for, I’d be happy to ask you about ‘em right here-“

A noisy cough came from beneath the overturned food carton Takeout wore on her head.

“Uh, or wherever. Back to my guest cabin, maybe?”

---

The group had quite a lot to juggle with all their own situations, but Yasu’s response added one more vector pulling their attention. If she’d keyed herself in, Lyntael would be able to receive the same message:

Quote (Yasu.EXE)

I’m currently engaged in discussion with Tango. I followed the same coordinates you did, so I’m in the room with him or her or them. This person is very difficult to deal with, but I will show them the NeoShogun army’s zero tolerance for hijinks.

Tango has asked me if you all have managed to “sew the seeds of passion throughout the decks of the New Wanderlust,” so I’m reluctantly passing that on. Tango appears to insist on this, but I will remind you that is not officially part of your mission objectives.

The food you requested is being obtained. I put Dee on it, believing she would be more well-suited to understanding the foolishness and frivolity required of cruise ship dining. I told her I would note her protests that she was not allowed to appear in person, but that would obviously be far too dangerous. I will have her enlist the help of an unknown from the GNA. It may take a bit longer. I have advised her to stick to a budget, and told her I would note her protests that it was too small of a budget. I have no luck with this woman. DragonierMan, please see if you can slip some discussion of frugality and common sense into your next chat with her.

On the note of that danger, I should also advise that I am jacked in and actually in Tango’s room. Obviously, it would be a critical error if anyone from the BOC was to meet me here, so please keep track of the guests.

About the names you mentioned… Our only record of ChronicleMan is the limousine incident, which Escort reported to me and which is not a concern. Memora and ArmoryMan were involved in an incident with the Terror Girls and engaged in hostilities with subordinate MachMan. Armoryman is certainly an enemy, and although she cooperated to some extent, Memora should be treated as one until proven otherwise, especially considering her appearance here with the BOC. DragonierMan is already privy to the details surrounding ReservoirMan and the incidents at the Alaki Reservoir.

The most concerning names are MerchMan and Signatory… I have heard these names before. but cannot remember where. It must have been something of low importance. Be aware that I handle many communications as the First General of the Neoshogun Army and can hardly be expected to remember all of them. Still, best to be cautious. Can you provide any additional information on why they are here?

---

Regardless of which members of the ship’s hospitality team did what, ChronicleMan was having his cronies hoist him on stage and starting the show. He tapped the microphone on the podium a couple of times, eliciting a loud and grating squeak. “Ahem! Your attention, please!” he shouted into it, far too loudly. Immediately, he had the irate attention of the entire room. Smiling, he continued. “The first meeting of the BOC shall be called to order! I want to sincerely thank you all for gathering for the collaboration and prosperity of-“

“ChronicleMan! Would you mind if I made the opening remarks?!” Signatory shouted his name early, and, seeing he intended to keep talking over her, rose her voice to a loud boom with visible exertion.

The offended elder obviously did mind, but he probably thought it would hurt his credibility to bicker over it at the very start of his speech. “Oh, fine! Make it quick!”

“Yes, well. Good evening everyone. You can call me Sign.EXE. On behalf of my regular client, MerchMan, I have gathered you all here to discuss your representation by my firm in building a case against the Neo-Shogun Empire and its parties. In simple terms, understand the following: the more people we have on board, the stronger our case will be. The individual merits of each case are important, but the critical thing is having enough cases to scare them away from challenging each simultaneously. Simply speaking, unless one of the cases turns out to be exceptionally solid, our preferable outcome will be to receive out-of-court settlements paid by the NeoShogun empire. I assure you, those settlements would still be very lucrative. Second, please know that I have advised my client that meeting in this fashion is inappropriate and careless, yet we are proceeding, in spite of my advice… This is to say that, should discussion fall apart here, I would be more than pleased to continue conversations with each of you separately. Indeed, to reiterate, even if this meeting falls apart, I will probably be able to help you make even more compelling cases in a private, secure environment. So, to recap for clarity, the goals for the BOC should be thus: One, avoid losing individual participants, and two, recognize the shabby state of security and, with all due apologies to the staff present, conveniences here and retire to a more productive and secure environment. Thank you.”

“Well, it sounds like we’re off to a great start already, according to our counsel!” Memora spoke up in sarcastic high spirits.

“Yes, well, our lawyer may be a master of all things in the realm of law, but clearly she lacks the personal touch to lead an organizational gathering such as this,” ChronicleMan dismissed her with a pitying smile. “That, of course, falls upon me.” He paused, obviously bracing himself for the auspicious position of “leader of the complainers to be challenged.”

“Why do you get to be the leader, anyway?!” Raptor shouted from her seat at Memora’s table, resting her head on her hands and her elbows on the tablecloth. TribalMan, his arms crossed, nodded.

Clearly furious at the backtalk from his own corner, Chronicleman growled into the microphone from gritted teeth. “Because I am the oldest and the wisest, and also because I have the greatest claim! I’d like to elaborate on that, but before I do, does anyone else have anything to add? Before I officially and formally kick off this meeting, that is?”

“Ah, allow me to correct a misconception,” Sign offered, folding her large hands in a strange way before extending one out, apparently signaling the beginning of an explanation. “ReservoirMan is on board this ship, he just isn’t here. He is, frankly, too large. The doors to this dining hall are not large enough to allow him passage, and he refuses to use a .GMO… Nevertheless, he insisted on participating. I also thought that wise, although it poses certain challenges…” The Navi adjusted her glasses and frowned. “As much as I’d love to say he’s enjoying himself elsewhere… I’m assuming Tango didn’t see fit to send catering and entertainment to the ship’s cargo hold? Anyway, don’t concern yourself with it. He seems to prefer solitude, and… I feel confident the dinner will not be enlivened by his presence.”

Next, Sign whirled to Lyn with excitement as she heard what she wanted to hear. There was a fair shake that having someone she was pressing acquiesce and agree to sign her papers was a more effective method of pleasing her guests than Lynn would otherwise manage to accomplish on the crazy cruise. The woman shook her head and raised her eyebrow at the hostess, smiling all the same. “Tango? Cross? I can hardly imagine it. Anyway, like I said, as long as you and your friends have no shady plans, there’s no reason you should fear signing anything I put before you.”

ChronicleMan seemed like he was trying to subtly peer forward and get a look at those papers himself, but Sign correctly guessed that “AmberMint” was treating her “real” name as a sensitive matter and took her papers back swiftly.

“You’re smart to use your real name, ‘Lynn.’ I can’t tell you how many phonies I’ve cleaned out for my clients because someone tried to sign with an alias,” she said, with a smile that suggested she was trying to make friendly conversation rather than issue a threat. “Oh, but you don’t have to worry about that. Again, if there’s no reason for me to go after you. Thank you. And don’t worry about Tango. I’m confident I could do argumentative circles around your boss in my sleep, should the need arise… I-I mean, not that it will come to that.
“In any case…” Sign cleared her throat and rose, seeming to sense Lyn was eager to get out of the discussion of legal matters and into fulfilling ChronicleMan’s request. “I’ll get out of your hair for now. Now, Cynthia…” Sign decided to press her luck, turning to the support program with a smile. “Perhaps I can get your signatures as well?” It seemed this was really the only way the lawyer intended to be entertained until she had every blank filled in.

As she did so, ChronicleMan was once again engaged by Lyntael, holding his watchful smile on her, turning his expression to solemn empathy a moment too slow for it to be natural when she began expressing her own concerns. However, his eyebrows raised in genuine interest when she described being an unoperated Navi. A hint of an inappropriate smile might have begun to curl the corners of his mouth under his moustache. “Oh my. It sounds like you don’t get up to many adventures, per se, but you have plenty of marketa- er, ah, exciting experiences nonetheless. Do continue.”

The Navi listened with eyes that seemed to be begging her to arrive somewhere in particular, perhaps offensively failing to find anything of note to respond to in her statement of her rather selfless desires. He listened to her talk about her experience with Tango and her request for discretion and nodded politely. “Of course. Ah, I might want to circle back around to this story of how you first met her.”

ChronicleMan looked a bit surprised to be asked about himself, as though he were trying to decide how he felt about it. Eventually, he frowned, stroking his moustache. “Yes, these ‘shogun people’ as you put it, Lynn… Pah! Poppycock! ‘Gone pacifist?’ Let me tell you, the only place they’re going is straight to court, where they will compensate me… er… us, most handsomely! If you care to hear my story, I’ll be happy for you to join us when I take the floor at our meeting, at which time I will elucidate every detail, but, for now, allow me to share but a single, tantalizing tidbit: Those scoundrels hit me with a limousine,” he finished with a total lack of humor, perhaps giving away the meat of his story a bit too readily. “Ugh. Feel like my poor, poor hip is flaring up just thinking about it, oh woe is me!” The old man looked like he wanted to continue elaborating on that a bit more productively, and he looked to the door of the kitchen as if anticipating getting things started.

---

Memora’s eyebrow twitched as she saw ArmoryMan being seated before her. She didn’t seem to have any problem with his petty request being fulfilled, but it probably stung her pride as a woman somewhat to see a the handsome host guide the burly man to his table and leave her to seat herself… Shrugging, she made her way to another free seat by herself, away from the male arms dealer and closer to the table of the other guests.

ArmoryMan, took his seat at the clothed table, seeming to approve of the spot Corrin chose. He picked up the card on the cloth and read it with a curled lip, looking wryly amused in spite of himself. “This is no joke? You guys are really serious? Hell, get me a burger out here then, chief.” He sat moodily staring at nothing in particular, occasionally glancing at the other tables and their guests, coming up with a snide remark that made him smirk, then keeping it to himself and falling into a mood all over again.

---

Takeout rubbed her hands together. She’d apparently asked to be paid upfront, but the prospect of being paid at all seemed to have her excited now. “Okay, you got a deal. Leave it all to Takeout, and just remember the promise.” Takeout joined the rest of the would-be kitchen staff in preparing what she could, although it seemed most everything would be time-limited by the microwave. “Ooh, lucky Takeout is here. There is a secret. What you can plate, how you adjust microwave… The secrets of fastfood are known to me! Takeout learned how to be lazy veeery efficiently, hehe…” Sure enough, the small woman began brazenly putting different items together on microwave plates and stove trays, not inviting any questioning of her methods, calculations, or experience.

As dishes left the ovens, stovetop, and microwave, whatever was placed in front of Raptor and TribalMan immediately disappeared. Funnily enough, while they seemed to have staked out their own areas and didn’t seem poised to fight over apart from some cagey standoffs if anything was placed equidistantly between them, their zones seemed to split the counter in front of them 50/50. In other words, they had clearly established there was no room for MerchMan to receive anything. With some effort, the man finally got a plate of fries before it could vanish, and even some ketchup after he managed to flag down one of his hostesses for it.

Soon, Raptor and Tribalman had slowed down, having taken about fifty percent collectively of everything that was prepared for themselves. Finally, the disguised ninjas were able to start creating a serving line.

“Hoo! I changed my mind, this cruise is all right! We don’t even have to pay for any of this junk, do we?!” Raptor admitted. She let out a burp and, perhaps surprisingly, blushed a bit… apparently that was a step less graceful than even she intended to be.

TribalMan let out a large belch as well… If anyone was expecting a similar display of emotion and vulnerability from him as well, they’d be disappointed. Still, he gave a thumbs-up to indicate he’d been satisfied as well.

“Sheesh,” MerchMan muttered, chewing on a fry and looking hungrier than he’d let on. “Also, what are you doing back here, Beard Guy? You didn’t, uh, get the hint that I’m satisfied with my current level of service?”

Nobody else seemed to be complaining: too many cooks might spoil a broth, but the broth this kitchen was preparing was pretty hard to screw up. Everything was ready to take out to the front.

Halfway through these preparations, Aya had gotten a response from Yasu.

Quote

I will delegate the task of procuring the food to another, while I deal with Tango personally. She will see how persuasive a Neo-Shogun general can be, and learn exactly how much tolerance we have for shenanigans. Little, in case that was unclear. How many are you serving?

MerchMan flashed his smile again, happy to get back to flirting, even if his target was busy preparing food at the same time. “Sure you are! About interviews though… yeah! Sure, I interviewed ‘em. Oh, I’ve talked up all of those Neoshogun girls, for sure.” The hopeless Casanova seemed to be relying on this as an ill-advised pickup tactic. “They’re cute, sure, but uh… not a lot goin’ on in the old noggin, if you catch my drift. I prefer a girl with a little wit, Mara. A little wit, a big smile, and a cute laugh, hehe!”

His eyes were transparently not on Mara’s “big smile” as he said this.

---

Meanwhile, outside, ArmoryMan bared his teeth in an expression that didn’t mean anything clear, with his eyes hidden behind his shades. “Well, I’ll be. You actually came through on that? Dunno how I feel about a burger as an appetizer, but I bet I’m gonna work up an appetite listening to these sad sacks whine, so why not. And anyway… free’s free. A businessman takes a deal when he sees it… While passing on the small fries to leave room for the main course. That means I’m really hoping there’s some actual cruise food coming out of there at some point, okay, chief? This joke’s only funny once.”

When Nikki made her way to the other table, they took it without the propensity to make a big, self-important speech about it. Soon enough, everyone had a plate to munch on, even if some seemed more pleased about the fare than others…

ChronicleMan, in particular, had ultimately only taken a glass of water. “Okay now, attention, attention, ladies and gentlemen! I feel it’s just about time we got started and bring the first meeting of the BOC to order! We are about to commence ceremonies which, at their conclusion, will swiftly find us all justly recompensated for our misery, and those unsavory ruffians of the NeoShogun empire selling those swords of theirs to keep the lights on! Ohoho… Ho… Heheh… Raptor!” He shouted, suddenly cross. “TribalMan! Where the blazes are those two?! You, with the beard, won’t you please fetch those two? Knowing them, they’ll be content to keep chowing down on chicken nuggets until I’m the one carrying them around!” Never had any of those gathered heard such a disdainful pronunciation of “chicken nuggets.”

ChronicleMan’s smile widened as Lynn made it clear she wanted to produce her story without a fight. With that being as it was, he seemed eager to begin things moving in that direction, happily shutting up if it meant Lynn could make it happen sooner.

“You’re… actually going to sign these?” Sign asked, looking genuinely affected. She tightened her lip and nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, it will help me relax, and no, it shouldn’t put anyone in danger, of course. Why, to be frank, the purpose of them is simply to protect us and our interests from you. If you’re not someone we should worry about, you have no reason to be worried. And… yes, of course I have a pen. Why do Navis not carry pens? Am I the only one who is always having to sign something…?” she muttered, twisting her gauntlet so that a virtual pen extended from the opening at the end and handing it to Lynn quickly. “What would really help me relax, however, is if all five of you were to sign them… Then, we could let you attend the meeting without worrying about anything.”

“Surely the young lady’s show of good faith is enough?” ChronicleMan mentioned with an unconvincing grin, adjusting his monocle.

Sign demurred, but she didn’t press the issue, either. She passed the clipboard towards Lynn, flipping through the pages on automatically (in fact, even pointing out spaces that required initials without glancing at the paper). Sure enough, if Lyn looked through the very dense jargon contained in the print, she’d find they mostly contained tight snares of legal language subjecting those who signed it to action if it could be proven they were members of or had friendly relations with the Neo-Shogun Empire. A good portion was also included to prevent disseminating information that was discussed during this meeting, which would supposedly all be covered under Sign’s privilege with her client, MerchMan. On that note…

“I apologize, Cynthia, but I need to remain here. ReservoirMan isn’t… or, rather, can’t… physically come to this meeting. That’s why he’s communicating via radio. That means we’re only missing one… and that may be him showing up…”

“Ah… ChronicleMan muttered, stroking his moustache. “If so, I wonder if our story hour should wait… Bah, no such thing! I’m sure those two along with everyone else will fancy some victuals before commencing with the presentation. That gives us plenty of time for that story, my dear,” he said, turning his unnerving smile on Lynn once more.

---

Corrin had already gone to greet Memora. She offered her hand to him for his lip service, although she seemed far easier taking it as a gesture of greeting than Sign had. “The pleasure is mine, sir. Don’t worry about taking care of me, I’ve been enjoying myself out on the deck. Everything’s so peaceful here…” she said with a sigh that didn’t sound entirely pleased, giving him a tight smile. “I guess that means things will be uneventful, for once.”

“That so?” a man’s voice called from behind her. A large, dark-skinned man (though not as large or as dark as TribalMan) with black shades, yellow-dyed dreadlocks, and a gray with a pattern that looked like a bandoleer of bullets, running down the seam of the coat, stepped through the doorway. Notably, half of his head was wrapped in a bandage, but his shades placed over it suggested it was an injury he was working on healing. His thick lips were curled in a snarl at Memora. He stood at a distance, as if worried she had something contagious. “When shit gets too peaceful, you just gotta show up to stir up trouble, huh? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Ah… this is my compatriot, ArmoryMan,” Memora said with a very thin smile. “I… didn’t know he was invited.”

“I’m here to make some zenny, same as you,” he told her, crossing his muscular arms. “Only, I haven’t had a lot of luck with that lately, on account of you sticking to me like a shadow. A shadow that always seems to bring me bad fucking luck.”

“Ahaha… ArmoryMan here has been on a bit of a losing streak on transactions. Not that my luck has been that much better,” she muttered, rubbing her temples. “Look, why don’t we just relax? I’m sure Corrin here can help you with that… He promised me a Wanderous stay, after all.”

“Yeah, just sit me somewhere as far away from her as you can. Do that, get me something to eat, and I’ll be out of your hair, my man. I’m just here for business.”

---

MerchMan didn’t seem happy about leaving his entertainment, but he was probably exaggerating his displeasure, throwing his hands up and blowing a raspberry. “Pfft, nope, no trouble at here! I’ll just sit here and enjoy some lively conversation with these two until you’re back. Either of you two like the Neo-Shogun? Raptor, I’d peg you for a… Yasu fan.”

“Nope,” she responded curtly, frowning and keeping her eyes on Takeout and her escorts as they left.

Takeout was basically silent as she was carted into back, but seemed happier to talk when the two got to the topic of her payment. “Tango agreed to very cheap rate for Takeout service… But supposed to pay up front. Seems Tango forgot Takeout was ordered at all… So, food is all in cooler. Knock yourselves out.”

Sure enough, Nikki would find the freezers of the kitchen stocked with all of the burgers, fries, soda (probably not supposed to be in the freezer), and bagged chips (definitely not supposed to be in the freezer) they could want. She would notice that, although it mostly seemed to be limited to fast food, there were also a bunch of items in the freezer that weren’t on the list: hot dogs, chicken nuggets, Choinese food, large pre-packaged cookies… if it was something you’d find on a fast food menu and reasonably hope not to pay much for, it was there… in the freezer. At least it didn’t seem like it had been there long. The frozen items were appropriately cold, while things like chips were just getting there. There were also all kinds of sauces and seasonings… but, again, only what you might find in a fast food place. Packets of ketchup, mustard, soy sauce, sweet and sour sauce, etc.

There was good news and bad news on the preparation front. The good news was that any and all of the cooked food was able to be prepared in the microwave, the kitchen had a microwave, and at the very least it seemed Tango had sprung for decent silverware and dishes, as those were available in the cupboards. The bad news was, well, the cooked food was able to be prepared by the microwave. Far from “emperor service,” what they’d be delivering if they relied on this would be an impressive array… of make-it-at-home versions of various fast food.

“So, how about this offer?” Takeout began, leaning against a wall and sounding a bit more chipper now that she had the faintest notion she might get paid. “Takeout will make delicious fast food for guests, and you pay takeout from earnings from Tango. Options beyond the five are even available, if you ladies can foot a bill.”

As appetizing as that offer must surely sound, Nikki had the idea to message Yasu. She’d find a surprisingly slow response… the earlier message she’d sent DragonierMan implied she might just be weaseling her way out of attending, but apparently she actually could be in the middle of something.

Quote (Response from Yasu)

Thank you for your report, Aya. Ordinarily, I’d advise that you don’t need to report to me with details on such a frivolous mission, but I understand you’ve found yourself in an unusual, unexpected, and ridiculous situation, as one might expect with this employer. I may be able to arrange something on that front, but it will take some time, especially considering that, under the circumstances, it would need to be delivered under disguise. How much time do you have?

As for the situation in general, I’ll trust your judgment and DragonierMan’s… at least, it sounds like he hasn’t gotten into trouble yet. Please remember anyone in the BOC should be considered an enemy of the Neo-Shogun army until proven otherwise, and do what you can to collect information.

Raptor and TribalMan didn’t bite on the conversation, but they definitely seemed like they would bite on some food if offered, probably even if it was inappropriately cold.

MerchMan, on the other hand, seemed like he expected some decent food, but was happy to make small talk at the same time, especially if the topic was himself. “Yeah, I’m just a guy who has always had an eye for opportunity, especially when it comes to branding. I spent a long time trying to market ol’ sourpuss out there, if you can believe it, but that hasn’t gone anywhere, of course. That said, it was a good connection to make, ‘cause she’s helped me dig my way into all kinds of other markets. If you ladies are interested in becoming famous on the Net, just let me know. Once we’ve talked about your talents, then gotten your name out there, we can work on merchandise designs. I’m sure people all over the Net want to buy images of you two… You’re even cuter than those ninjas DragonierMan has, after all!” he said with a good-natured laugh, looking certain his flattery would be dead on the mark.

Sign frowned, still regarding Lynn cautiously. “Of course, I’ll follow you. None of you have signed my papers yet, after all. That means I have to continue keeping an eye on you. Wouldn’t this all be easier if you simply signed? I think we’d all be able to take it much easier, then…” It seemed getting the lawyer to relax her nerves (or her grip on her clipboard, for that matter) was still going to take some work. Regardless, she followed along into the main hall. She noted Lynn picking up one of the menus, but if she thought there was anything odd about that, she didn’t say it. In all likelihood, she was thinking of other things.

As cautious as Sign appeared to be about the nature of the ship’s staff, MerchMan was the inverse: the trained warriors squeezing his arms wouldn’t feel any kind of defensive reaction in response. When the ladies took up on his offer to accompany them to the kitchen, he gladly accepted…

… It looked like they would have a couple of stowaways, though. They were joined by Raptor and TribalMan, who seemed to feel they would get fed faster if they took themselves to the catering, rather than vice versa. Perhaps luckily, they didn’t seem to be the chatty sort under the best of times; as hungry as they were, they would probably stay quiet and on a straight path to the kitchen unless Mara and Nikki made any stops.

---

In the main hall, ChronicleMan was left with Lyn. He gestured for her to accompany him to a table, seeing as he was the only one apparently left to question about what made him “passionate.” … Unless Lyn was into “distinguished” (older) gentlemen or good books, she might be nervously anticipating his answer.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the first thing ChronicleMan revealed himself to be passionate about was himself. “Well, regarding my own story, I’m not quite sure where to begin. Unfortunately, my story is a bit of a somber one as of late. This whole business with the BOC is hopefully a way to begin to finally take hold of my fortunes and harness my ingenuity to get what I deserve! I-“

“ChronicleMan,” Sign interrupted, taking a seat and politely pulling out chairs for Corrin and Cynthia, in spite of the fact they were ostensibly her serving her. “Lynn asked what you’re passionate about, not what your business is.”

“A-and what business is that of yours, pray-tell, Ms. Signatory?” he asked, adjusting his monocle and giving her a wry smile, leaning across the table with the expression of someone who was begging for a punch in the face and knew he wouldn’t receive it. “But, very well. As far as what I’m passionate about, well, it’s the stories of others! I simply can’t resist learning all I can about the backgrounds of the vagrants and journeymen I come across in the dives and alleys of the Net’s wide world. And what a coincidence! Here I am with a charming young lady who is employed by the cruise ship. If you want to satisfy me as a guest, all you need to do is tell me every little detail of your undoubtedly rich young journey through life so far, sparing no detail. I’ve got nothing but time and ink to spend, myself,” he added, grinning broadly. The untrustworthy nature of that grin made what ought to be an innocent request for a background seem like he was up to something shady…

Sign rapped her fingers on the table in an antsy manner, looking uncomfortable. Finally, she seemed to decide she should answer the question too, as a way of breaking silence. “I’m… passionate… about my work. To do the work I do, there isn’t always time for other hobbies or frivolity. Which is not to say… I don’t have any hobbies, of course, I do… I mean to say that I’m not just working all the time… Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week…” she muttered, clamming up and folding her hands in front of her face while forgetting to list what any of those hobbies were.

While pleasantries were exchanged, it seemed like something was beginning to buzz underneath ChronicleMan’s robe. It sounded a lot like a ringtone of an incoming call, but he didn’t seem to hear it to answer. Soon, it started playing without his input. “ChronicleMan? Are we ready to start yet? You may recall I’m not exactly in the luxury wing of the ship. Please tell me everyone’s gathered,” an impatient, somehow rumbling voice came from below his robe.

“Not yet, hold your horses, chap,” the man spoke succinctly, reaching under his robe and likely hitting a button before focusing on Lynn again. Before he could get anywhere, it began ringing again and he had to fiddle once more. “What?!”

“Are all the guests attended to?” the noisy voice inquired. “Remember we need everyone to remain on-board or this whole thing is pointless. Have Memora and ArmoryMan finally joined you yet?”

“They’re around and about, I’m certain- Ah! There’s one now,” he confirmed with a grin. “Ehm, Corrin or, Cynthia, was it? Do one of you mind greeting her?”

The one he was referring to was probably the tall woman in the white sun hat who had just entered the room. She wore reflective shades and had long, faded brown hair. While she was Sign’s equal in terms of height, she looked just a bit older and definitely a bit more mature in terms of assets. She was wearing a white sun dress and sandals, and was carrying a purse. In spite of her attractive body and elegant clothing, the smile on her painted lips looked a bit dangerous. Somehow or another, it was almost reminiscent of how Mara and Nikki had disguised themselves…

Corrin and Cynthia could greet her if they wished, but she didn’t seem to be waiting for it. If they didn’t it looked like she intended to take a seat apart from all of them, evidently not concerned if she appeared to be a wallflower.

---

MerchMan continued through the kitchen with his arm candy, tailed by his two hungry tagalongs. He grinned as they pointed out his odd clothing, turning this way and that to give them a better look. “Hey, you ladies are Neoshogun fans, huh? Not many of those on board today, sorry to say! Anyway, Sign would tell me not to talk shop with you girls, but she’s not here, so phooey to her! This is all official Neoshogun merch that I’m the sole distributor of, not like that knockoff crap those tunic-wearing scalpers are hocking in their dirty tents! What are you into? I got cute stuff like the robe, cool stuff like the scarf… I bet you ladies are DragonierMan fans, right? Or is it MachMan? Those two are real hot sellers, for sure!”

The two wouldn’t have long to answer him before they found themselves in the kitchen. The facilities looked nice enough, the type of kitchen where one might expect a bustling staff to be preparing fancy side dishes and carrying trays out to waiting voyagers… Only, the lights were almost all off, and there was only one person, a sight so creepy it could have come from a horror movie.

The sole occupant of the kitchen was a short, thin young woman with an armored outfit over a yellow skinsuit. The armor she wore was designed to look like patterned red-and-white checkered cardboard boxes, like one might pick up fast food in. Clashing with this somewhat, the Navi’s helmet was like an upside-down box of Choinese takeout with two eyeholes cut in it, but with no visible whites inside. Adding to the image, a slow string of dripping, greasy fluid seemed to be coming from the bottom of the box, as though someone really had just upturned a box of food on her head. The mysterious figure’s gauntlets were currently clutching a virtual phone, tapping away as she leaned against the counter.

MerchMan showed some legitimate concern. Anyone seeing this person in the kitchen would probably begin to start taking the “joke” he’d seen earlier seriously. “Um… excuse me? Are you serving back here?”

“Iunno, is Tango paying me?” the young woman’s dull voice came muffled from her box. She didn’t look up from her phone.

“Uh… I don’t know,” MerchMan answered honestly, scratching the back of his head. “Is Tango paying you?”

“Iunno,” the mysterious woman responded, then went back to tapping on her phone.

“Look, somebody in this room better start feeding me, or I’m gonna start feeding on someone,” Raptor growled, baring her teeth at the stranger.

“You wanna rumble? Heh. Nobody’s paying Takeout to kill dinosaur, so forget it.” The strange woman continued tapping with her phone, apparently not concerned. “Look. Tango forgot… they… was supposed to pay me. So, I forgot I was supposed to fix any food. Not my problem.”

MerchMan looked to Nikki and Maya for some help. It looked like Raptor, at least, was going to break the “no fighting” rule pretty quickly if they didn’t make something happen.

MerchMan immediately brightened at Lyntael’s introduction, with a face that said his next words before they left his mouth. “Ha ha! This is what I’ve been waiting for, Lynn! I guess Tango at least got this much right. I hadn’t seen any waitresses, so I’d started to figure we were on a ghost ship.”

Sign, for her part, looked far less amused. The frozen expression on her face suggested that this was about what she’d expected, and she was used to dealing with it. “Ah, a promise. How generous of you. But a promise is only as good as a ‘maybe’ until you put it in writing-“

“Forget it! Don’t any of you cuties dare sign that!” MerchMan growled now, swiping at the clipboard as Sign held him back with one large hand and held it away with the other. “I’m sure the fine print is chock full of stuff this tight-ass put in to stop me from having a good time! That’s how she is!!” he yelled, finally giving up and crossing his arms as he fell back. It looked like an abundance of merchandise, a transparent desire to enjoy himself, and (apparently) the status of a paying customer might be all he had over his lawyer.

Sign continued to stare at Lynn’s face as if trying to bore a hole through her. Probably, this was because she was used to dealing with people trying to get out of signing papers from her and a warning flag had gone off for her… But with the young woman’s thoughts at that time, it was hard not to imagine she was staring into her thoughts and daring her to break eye contact (or, rather, eye-to-lens contact) to check on her outfit.

While Lynn dealt with that, MerchMan gladly gave his arms to the two women. They were laying it on thick to paper over their ordinarily dangerous nature, but the lucky man either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Every desire? Don’t make promises you don’t wanna keep later in the night, Mara~!” he teased, staring “tensely” into her cleavage. This close, the two would be able to spot the bit of orange stubble growing on his chin When Nikki spoke up, however, she instantly had his attention. “Aw damn, would that hit the spot right now! C’mon, lemme join you in the kitchen! I knew today was gonna be a lucky day, hee hee!” He began leading the two along into the main room. “Join us Lynn, unless you wanna sit here and sign stuff! I always say the only thing pretty ladies ought to have to sign is autographs! Follow me if you wanna know more~!”

Sign was transparently grinding her teeth in response to the man’s words. With how much composure (or, at least, how low a tolerance for flirty nonsense) she’d shown up until that point, it must have taken a lot of confidence and guts for the disguised DragonierMan to try putting a move on her: nonetheless, she seemed to be so distracted by MerchMan’s behavior that Corrin managed to pull it off before she could retract it. The servant for the day got another funny reaction out of her: Sign’s jaw dropped open as a visible flush ran across her face. Then, she did something strange… She clenched her teeth hard, looking like she’d have severed her tongue if it had been out, then shook her hand dramatically as if to get rid of a bug and drew it back. “Me? Tense? You must be imagining things,” she responded preposterously, straightening her glasses again with her large fingers. “If you’re determined to offer massages and beverages, I’m sure there are others inside who need such things.” Needless to say, Sign had retracted her clipboard and begun hugging it to herself with her other arm so defensively that it would probably take an invisible Navi to get it from her.

Regardless, it was Cynthia’s turn to try her luck. Once again, Sign looked slightly whiplashed by the varying demeanors she was being forced to put up with. She did her best to settle into professionalism again. “Hmm… In the main room are the organizer and his three. There’s MerchandiseMan and myself… There’s two other wandering about the ship, still. There’s another… somewhere. I heard he had some trouble with the venue. Finally, there’s someone in the kitchen, but… I don’t think she’s a party to the BOC. She didn’t approach me asking, and she seemed… rather difficult to approach, herself. So I’ve assumed she’s simply kitchen staff that is very, very bad at her job. In any case… Thank you,” she ended in a warmer-than-expected voice, although her expression didn’t change. “As nice as it would be to relax here, somebody has to hold the reigns considering the clowns running this circus… Still, I’ll happily rely on you for anything I need in terms of the ship.”

She paused for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Ahem. As soon as you sign these papers,” she added, thrusting them forward again to their likely dismay.

---

Mara and Nikki (and, perhaps, Lynn) had managed to sneak through by clinging to something Sign seemed glad to treat as a blind spot in her attention. “Honestly, girls, I am so glad you showed up. Tango got me pretty hard with that joke, ha ha! Hold up, hold up. Take a look at this,” he told them, guiding them towards an empty, cloth-covered table with a big smile on his face. “Look at it!”

Those gathered would finally lay eyes on what he must be talking about, an item so conspicuously out-of-place with the décor that it seemed like it must have been left there by accident… Yet, there was one on every table in the hall. It was a small, square sheet of unlaminated white paper that displayed the text:
MENU
BURGER – MICROWAVED BY REQUEST
FRIES – MICROWAVED BY REQUEST
SODA – (there was a white spot here, like something had been taped over on the original copy)
WATER
BAG OF CHIPS (PLAIN)

MerchMan was doubled over laughing, obviously expecting the other three to join in. “That loser in the kitchen creeps me out, but I’m glad to know she at least has a sense of humor! Awesome prank. C’mon, let’s go get to that Emperor treatment you ladies mentioned-“

Before they could, the man behind the podium on stage began moving towards them. He snapped for the two had been watching him to help him down, and they did (although the woman among them grumbled): in any case, they easily lifted his withered form and brought him to the ground. It was a bit of a rough landing, but he managed it with surprising poise, as if it was something he’d come to expect. “Thank you, ma’am and sir! Graceful, as always,” he muttered, his chipper tone falling as he barely repressed rolling his eyes.

The man who’d been helped down surely had to be the one in charge, based on the odd hat he was wearing, in the style of a blue-covered open tome with a red bookmark that covered his right eye while an ornate monocle graced the other. He had a curling moustache, a resting smile, and a twinkle in his eye, giving the impression of a fatherly old gentleman… so ceaselessly that it almost had to be an act. He wore a blue cloak with silver side-clasps like book latches over his wizened black frame, had a bit of a hunch in his back, and a noticeable limp in his step. In spite of it, the lower teeth of his grin were exposed to the group. “Welcome! You must be Tango’s staff… finally,” he trailed off in a sarcastically weary tone, holding his grin. “Allow me to introduce you to my own humble servants. This is-“

“I’m not your servant, for the last damn time!” the lady shouted, although she stood back and flanking him like she was. “Name’s Raptor.” The lanky woman wore a green, scaled armored outfit with torso armor, a skirt, bracers and greaves. Both the arm and leg armor were adorned with sharp nails at the tips, somewhat like dinosaur claws, joining the motif of the leather dinosaur-like hood she wore over her head, where only a bit of her sandy blonde hair peeked through. Her face did look scary like a dinosaur’s, with yellow, feral eyes with vertical slit pupils and pointed teeth in a wide resting grimace; in the moment where she’d spoken, a long, reptile-like tongue had revealed itself. To further complete the image, a leathery tail slithered from behind her and snaked along the floor. She looked somewhat fit and tan, judging from her visible biceps and lower thighs. “That’s TribalMan,” she said, indicating him by leaning her head in his direction.

That Navi was far more tan and fit than she was, a mountain of sharp-angled muscle with dark, blue-tattooed skin and brown hair in a short ponytail back from his forehead. The only clothing he wore was tan-colored skinsuit pants with a pattern like the tattoos that lined his body: the ordinary “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rules must not apply to him. He looked at them from dark, squinted eyes: among the many sour-looking characters they’d seen so far, he looked the least capable of smiling. He didn’t speak to greet them, only turning his impassive gaze between them as though challenging them with his imposing aura to dare them to make him introduce himself.

“He’s the strong, silent, simple type,” ChronicleMan added, a rather unveiled assessment that didn’t get any rise out of TribalMan. “In any case, these two leeches sometimes act as my hired muscle, but today we’re among friends!” he announced, spreading his arms congenially (yet, somehow, still smugly). “Which means there’s hardly any need for them to be here, you understand, except that they do so love to treat themselves to a cruise-ship vacation under the guise of lending me a hand.”

“What an ass,” Raptor muttered testily. “You asked us to be here! But yeah, now that you mention it, where’s the grub?! I could eat a freakin’ brontosaurus!”

“Yes, I was wondering about that,” ChronicleMan asked the pair of sisters (and Lyntael, if she’d joined), raising an eyebrow. “Tango had led us to believe this event would be finely catered. All I’ve seen advertised is, ahem, greasy foodstuffs of a low order. Burgers, fries, and other such garbage-“

“The hell?! They’ve been serving burgers and fries this whole time?!” Raptor spoke up, barely clearing her rumbling stomach for volume. “You sonuva- why didn’t you tell me?!”

TribalMan didn’t say anything, but loomed over ChronicleMan himself, announcing his own opinion with a loud, rumbling growl of his own belly.

“All of you, can it!” MerchMan finally got a word in edgewise, shouting with annoyance before relaxing again. “These lovely ladies were just about to show us where the real catering is! I don’t mind if they join us for that, girls, but I call dibs for that massage service, okay…?”

ChronicleMan sighed, although he was obviously smiling at the fortune of escaping being menaced. “W-well, I think any of us can become a bit testy while feeling so peckish. Tell me, young ladies, where do we go about being served? There’s hardly any time before we begin important BOC business. The only kitchen staff I’ve witnessed was… Ahem. Well, I didn’t check, but she had the shady look about her of a stowaway, rather than a waitress or cook of any sort-“

“Check! Check, damn yooou!!” Raptor yelled, holding her menacing hands in the air as though she were considering making a meal of him. “If she was here to flip patties I could’ve had a dozen by now!!”

MerchMan huddled the girls in, whispering to them discretely. “Uh, ladies… what say we ditch these three and head back there ourselves?” He helpfully indicated the silver double-door to the kitchen with a nod of his head. “No reason they’ve gotta tag along… Tell ‘em we’ll let the staff know they’re hungry.”

“Ooo, you got it on the first guess!” the headlocking sister congratulated him, still looking smug in spite of her congratulations.

“Ooo, guess it’s not that tough,” the headlocked sister reasoned with the same expression.

“As our friend and companion says, we are Spartoi,” Asymptote’s partner spoke up quickly, holding her hand to the small of her back while straightening herself in a mimic of back pain, as though that was a greeting. She watched the other Navi cross with widened eyes, although she otherwise showed no reaction. “This is still Asymptote: his identity has not changed,” she clarified for those present as the other Navi equipped his cross.

“Pretty handy ability!” Sake clapped for Asymptote as though he’d performed a magic trick, a muffled clap as she was still holding her namesake bottle. “I wonder if the other girls’d be able to get smaller if they crossed with me? Me n’ Escort’d be, like… Maybe Archie’s size,” she said with a hiccup after a long pause, apparently doing some mental calculus musing on just how tall her cross would be.

The two continued smiling as Asymptote introduced himself. He’d notice, however, that the lower one had a small twitch of the mouth when Asymptote mentioned who he was looking for. She very momentarily glanced at her sister, who glanced back only as long as she did; the four eyes were immediately back on Asymptote. Neither of them stepped up to acknowledge themselves as the one their visitor was looking for… That might strike Asymptote as a bit odd, giving that FirstGuess, at least, should have a very good idea why her sister would be getting a visit from a Navi like Spartoi about now.

““I guess you’re right!”” both Navis voiced with a delay so slight it was impossible to tell which had been the slower. Both laughed in an odd way at the compliment, their challenging expressions remaining as though determined not to break eye contact with him.

Spartoi may have had the same thought about something being odd. Her eyes narrowed as she jumped straight to the point. “Now would be an appropriate time for SecondGuess to announce herself. That would allow us to deliver our important and urgent message. Or FirstGuess could announce herself,” she added, pointedly. Her tail began to slide idly across the floor as she spoke. That could serve as a confirmation of her intentions to FirstGuess, or a confirmation of suspicions for SecondGuess.

The two guess sisters broke their headlock: in this scenario, the one who had been on top was now on Asymptote’s left, and the one on the bottom was on his right. Therefore, it would probably be easier to start thinking of them as LeftGuess and RightGuess until it got sorted out or some other method of distinguishing became available…
… Which it didn’t seem like would be immediately forthcoming. “”You have to guess!”” the two announced, only slightly out of time.

“… We have to guess which of you is FirstGuess and which of you is SecondGuess?” Spartoi asked, tilting her head and frowning deeply. On someone else, showing that much frustration might be a tell, but on her, it just seemed like her mood. “It would be faster and more expedient for one of the Guess sisters to reveal the other one.”

“Naw, this is the fun part!” Sake announced, stamping over to stand between the two and wave her arms at them in a goofy gesture. “This is the famous Guess Sisters Guessing Game! If you wanna meet the Guess Sisters ya gotta guess which one is which. Everyone has to.”

““I guess that’s it, Guest!”” the two announced, smirking and tittering identically.

“… We suppose we can indulge in a brief party game,” Spartoi acquiesced, crossing her arms. She pointed at the right one with a jab of her armored tail, which was, thankfully, sheathed. “You’re SecondGuess.”

“That’s your guess?” the left asked, hiding her grin behind a hand.

“You guessed… wrong!” the right answered, tittering behind her own palm.

“Unfortunate. You are SecondGuess,” Spartoi concluded, turning to the left with a slightly menacing tilt of her head. Her tail had begun to retract for what could look like either a return to default or the beginning of a coiled strike, depending on the viewer’s understanding. “We are sorry to hear it.”

“Wait wait!” Sake shouted, as if she could tell what was about to happen. That made Spartoi hold her position. “You play until you win! So the sisters do this… Do the thing you did before!”

“I guess I could,” the left announced, shrugging and smirking at Asymptote in particular.

“I guess we should,” the right agreed, matching her expression.

“’Kay, keep your eyes forward…” Sake demanded, holding up one finger each in front of Asymptote and his partner, calling for attention.

As she did so, the two Guess sisters ran behind Asymptote and Spartoi, then began shuffling their feet furiously, especially considering how the two of them were dressed. The effect was something like a cup shuffling game… it was essentially impossible to tell which of them was which from the earlier declaration when they ran back to the front, each making a cheeky grin.

… Unless, of course, one had a secret way of marking them or watching them. Then, it really would be as easy as a cup shuffling game. “”Make another guess!”” the two declared, looking at Asymptote now.

“End the game. We must deliver our message with no further delay,” Spartoi demanded, looking like she really wanted to deliver her “message” to both of the eccentric sisters as she slapped her tail lightly on the ground.

“Your friend is right!” Tango agreed with Suzume, the male form glancing at the sheath for just a moment before shutting his eyes once more and continuing his ceaseless shuffle for his unamused audience. “Neither your handsome host nor your heart-throbbing hostess condone any stabbing of guests upon the new ship. If you must calm the tension, why not resolve it through charm and diplomacy like the lovely Lyntael?” As incredulous as DragonierMan and his battle-strapped allies might be of that notion, Lyntael would probably find it even more preposterous, remembering what she’d had to go through the last time.

The woman rose as the man fell once more, catching the mannequin and dancing to DragonierMan. “Yes, yes, very open and very friendly! And serving the BOC with trays of…” Tango paused just a moment, smiling vacantly, before resuming a spin as if it was the answer to whatever she’d been questioning. “Whatever they order, of course! Ho ho!”

Tango dropped out of the spin as a mannequin towards DragonierMan, who would either politely catch her or let her fall onto the floor, as the man resumed his snapping shuffle while addressing Lyntael. It might occur to them that the man’s dance had become just a little more restrained after he’d hit his foot earlier. He nodded at the notion that they should forget about Jack. When Lyntael brought up the question, though, he shut his eyes, tilting his head up and trying to recall. “Hm…” He snapped his eyes open and grinned at Lyntael, wagging a finger playfully (and possibly frustratingly). “That is what I thought as well, my little dove! Well, as I spent some time learning of pirates and the foolproof measures to avoid them, I came across the info that the one named Clipper, she came up disappointed. If only those pirates came to my cruise for the right reasons, eh? But what of it? Water under the ship! I merely hope Jack is safe and sound in the loving embrace of your empire.” He started to reach for a hug, reconsidered it, then turned to reclaim his mannequin from DragonierMan.

The reappearing hostess sashayed silently for a bit, allowing Lyntael to think with perhaps surprising restraint. Perhaps, for her, getting charming costumes right was one of the most important tasks they’d broached on so far. “Ah, this one, she says all of the right things! Stylish, alluring, teasing! These are the words of passion, no? My heart beats with anticipation!” Apparently, she wasn’t kidding, as her dance picked up antsy speed while Magistrate fiddled with the finishing touches. She seemed so excited that she didn’t even lose a beat when briefly exposed to a static shock. Finally, she clapped her hands, tapping her feet around the changed group to inspect them from all sides. “Ah? Who are these charming devils and little demons who have joined us? Oh! Ho! Of course, they are the staff of the Wanderlust II, looking twice as mysteriously disguised and thrice as charming! I am very pleased, Lyntael. With your many talents, I should simply have hired you to fill the Jack-shaped hole in my staff! If your rates were the same,” Tango added at the end in a statement so quick it could have been a sneeze, shutting her eyes and dancing contentedly once more.

The man sprung from the floor again, tugging on his lapels once more. “I only question the limit of the red. Red is the color of passion, no? Passionate servants dressed in passionate red might be ideal…! But, of course, I leave it to your sound judgment,” he gave his perhaps limited insight on fashion. “Now, yours is…?” he began. He paused, twisting his thin moustache and grinning as he realized Lyntael’s changing process was more involved. “Well, as heart-pounding as that scene would surely be, your hostess and I cannot afford to be involved in any lawsuits, and I understand there is a high-powered lawyer on board! I will simply-“ he added, falling stiffly backward as a doll.

“Mind my behavior,” Tango finished as a woman, winking and posing. She offered unaccepted dances to DragonierMan and his ladies as the young lady finished changing, having time to extend an unaccepted hand multiple times to each of them before it was done. She remained silent as the group discussed their code names, seeming to pay very little attention at a possibly important time as they ran through it with each other. When they finished, she grinned, glancing at Corrin mischievously. “Yes, now you are…” she started, before patting him on the shoulders. “So distinguished and handsome! And you are…” she glanced at Cynthia… “So very beautiful! I have committed all of your charming names for the night to memory,” she announced without offering any proof. “And Lyntael, she is simply the lovely Lyntael. I see no problem.” For what her reassurance was worth.

The male form emerged once more to dance with the mannequin. “Now, as promised, follow me to the kitchen! I insist you walk this way,” he said with a grin, sashaying out with a practiced, meandering tap dance…

… Which left his mannequin abandoned in the room. A short while later, it sprang to life (as the other fell limply in the hallway). “And I will lead you to the hall! Simply follow my hips with your eyes and your feet!” she commanded, beginning a similar dance that took her in the same direction.

Anyone entering the hall would be able to look out the window and see the setting sun for the beginning of the night cruise. They’d be able to get as clear of a view as they wanted of the distant beach coastline, with no waves or sea spray disrupting them… because, as they would now realize, the ship was not moving at all.

As the group ventured forward, they would probably be frustrated to realize one group had caught up to the other as one group had to stop moving to wait for their guide whenever he or she switched. Finally, Tango had the good sense to start carrying the dummy again, merging their groups into one. It stood to reason the presentation hall must be near the kitchen.

---

Before the group got a chance to split up, they would find themselves in the lobby to the presentation hall. Before they could enter, it appeared there was a space to sign a guest registry. Of course, as ship staff, they probably didn’t need to. This was only a small foyer with chairs before the main hall, probably used as a waiting area before religious services like weddings.

It looked like this space would have a couple of obstacles to get through before the entirety of the BOC could be met. The group could see into the main hall where a distant, blue-robed man was standing on a stage, probably practicing some sort of speech to an audience of two in the front row. Standing in their way now, however, was a Navi none of them had seen before.

The pale woman approaching them wore a black vest and bow tie with a Navisuit like a white dress shirt tucked into formal pants underneath, covered by black metal bracers with gold rims and white-gloved hands that seemed too large and blocky for the rest of her relatively thin frame. She had short, styled black hair and white glasses that seemed to perpetually catch light, with thin, arched eyebrows that made her seem perpetually perturbed (assuming she wasn’t actually). Her pants had a design down the right leg of a single golden stripe, which tailed into black leg armor with a gold protrusion on the outside of either leg, looking like an inverted pen clip. With her outfit and frame, she might be mistaken for a man if not for her subtle lipstick and feminine voice. Before even introducing herself, she produced a clipboard with an enormously thick stack of papers attached. It seemed to be a special design selected with the intention of holding such a massive ream without difficulty.

“Signatory. You can call me Sign. Thank you Tango, that will be all.”

“Have we met?” the male version asked with a grin, reaching out to receive her hand and not getting anything. “I expect I would remember such a charming-“

“That will be all, Tango. Your staff is here for the event, right? I’ll take them where they’re going,” Sign rushed him, still holding out the mysterious stack of papers to the group.

“… Well, then! Good luck, my staff. I will return if hosting duties are needed! Do not hesitate to find me in my cabin,” Tango dismissed himself with a wave, heading back the way they came.

“What a simpleton,” the woman said in a quiet voice, although she hadn’t waited for Tango to actually leave earshot. “My understanding is none of you have been vetted even though you will be party to privileged information for the BOC. Therefore, I need each of your signatures here, here, here, and here. Short form okay. These state that first, you are not engaged in any conflicts of interest due to partnership, servitude to, or friendly relations with the NeoShogun Empire or any of its affiliates; second, you will not divulge privileged information from this meeting outside of this meeting or with other parties than the BOC; third-“

“Aaaaaaaaagh!” a voice shouted from a nearby chair. A male Navi who had been quiet until now finally rose, throwing his fists into the air. The Navi, while perhaps conventionally handsome with short orange hair and a rather fit build, was decked out in a preposterous outfit. He wore a green headband with the name of the first general of the Empire printed across it, trailing long ties behind it. Besides this, he wore what looked like a long-sleeved, baggy white robe, bearing vertical bands that showed cartoon images of the faces of various female Generals. Over this, he had a thrown item like a scarf that hardly matched at all, bearing dynamic images of MachMan on one shoulder and DragonierMan himself on the other in action poses. He pointed an image with a winking cartoon Hime face at Sign, stomping his feet. “Even the servants? You’re even gonna make the servants sign it? This is why you’re so un-cute, Four Eyes!”

The female Navi clicked her teeth, looking at the Navi who’d addressed her with a mouth curled in open disdain. Nonetheless, her voice was professional. “This… gentleman… is MerchandiseMan. As full disclosure, we’re acquaintances preceding the formation of the BOC. Now, please-“

“Look, don’t sign it, guys! Just don’t sign it! Or, at least, ask her if you’ve gotta sign it! That’s her trick, hahaha! Anyway, call me MerchMan. I’ve been waiting for some actual cuties to show up!” he declared, winking at the disguised Mara and Nikki as he did so.

Sign let out a deep sigh while glaring murder at him. “No… strictly speaking, they are not forced to, however, if they have nothing to hide, I would strongly recommend having them do so-“

“Nah, forget it!” MerchMan declared with a big grin, clapping Sign on the back. “You work for me, right? So that means you gotta shut up when I say so, right?”

“I’m retained by you. I don’t work for you,” Sign corrected him… but gently enough in spite of her frustration that he might have some point, after all.

“So, ladies! I was told this was gonna be a pleasure cruise, but I am so far from pleased right now! Of course that dumb-ass book man and his two-bit tango partners hooked us up on a cruise with just us! There aren’t even any other passengers here! What the heck, right? So, unless you ladies need to get to the kitchen real fast, I’d be happy if you'd tell us more about yourselves right here!”

“They can talk while they sign the documents-“ Sign offered with a twitching eyebrow.

“Don’t sign the documents!” MerchMan reminded them with another laugh, slapping Sign on the back once more.

“Ms. Mary,” Grin responded, glancing down at the woman’s body, “Assets like ours are useful to the NetMafia, to be sure, but I can’t trade such a precious service for potential alone, you understand! For goods like these, only zenny will do. But no need to worry, okay? Do as you like, and I’ll simply continue skimming my modest service fee off of your earnings for the current contract. I’m sure nobody will mind that arrangement.”

AdjustLady seemed to judge Mary and Grin sufficiently distracted that she could fade into the background, although she continued to watch them warily, probably planning to stop whichever of them tried to speak whatever forbidden words she was looking for in the same manner she had before. Unfortunately, she either wasn’t quick enough to stop Mary’s words, or else didn’t see them as a threat if they weren’t actually directed at her. There was another pop as Mary checked her understanding with Burt. “Look, you better only call me by my actual name, AdjustLady the Airhead Angel!” she shouted with an audible pout at the other two women. “Otherwise, I’ll get really mad. And since I can change my body, I can make my fists super huge to beat you up! Now leave me alone, I’ve got to watch these thingies,” she concluded, raising her paper back up to her face. “The fact that the squigglies are… big, and the top and the bottom are really far apart, and these ones are close together, that means it’s super big and important,” she concluded, sounding triumphant. “If I don’t watch them, they could… Um, our counselors could explode and we’d be in big trouble. And if it keeps going, the whole device is gonna, *pfft*,” she concluded gravely, blowing a raspberry. “So, I’ve got to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“… That doesn’t seem good,” Grin admitted, momentarily distracted from her playtime with Mary by the concerning change in her technician. She turned her attention back to Mary with a genial smile. “Now, Mary, gifts that are part of a .GMO aren’t especially useful for me. I’d be much happier if divine providence would simply drop some zenny my way… And you do want to make me happy, right?” she asked, grinning a bit more naturally since that line was part of her usual repertoire.

The woman’s grin widened to a baring of fangs as her eyes opened wide at Mary’s next action. “Hgrk! Maaaryyy!! Why, you… Nobody does this to me!!” she shouted, now clinging to Mary’s shoulders. “Nobody does this to me… w-without paying up front!” she corrected herself, now working very hard to keep a dignified and dangerous smile on her face while obviously flushed and wincing from her predicament. She continued growling as Mary brought the beach to her swimsuit, the mask of her smile twitching and threatening to break. “You can do as you like, but you understand this is costing you, right? But go right ahead! I’ll even accommodate you, as best I can. You wanted a little jiggling, correct?”

Grin turned carefully in place, giving Mary even better access to her even less protected behind. She folded her hands behind her head and began shaking her hips sharply from side to side, still struggling to keep her grin as her face grew beet red. “Well, you may be blind, but you can at least hear that chain jingling, right? Trust me when I say there is quite a bit of jiggling going on,” she assured the other woman honestly as drops of holy water flew from her shaking, occasionally sprinkling Mary. “So, go ahead and do whatever it is you want… e-except record this.”

“Oh! I can record this if you want,” AdjustLady offered, twisting knobs at one of her hands until a camera lens opened from the palm. “I have camera hands, too.”

“No thank you!” Grin shouted. “You know, Ms. Mary, you mentioned something about punishment earlier, right? I’d be happy to punish you if that’s what you like, okay? It’s ordinarily more my speed to provide excellent service to others, but if the service you want is punishment, I think you’ve certainly earned it. So, you need only say, ‘I’m a filthy pervert who is willing to pay my superior for the pleasure of being punished!’ Then, I’ll happily proceed to fulfilling your request, okay…?!” As Grin continued to shake her hips with a boldness that was ill fit for her expression, in spite of her best efforts, it was easy to imagine this was an attempt by Grin to resume some control of her situation.

---

Mikey watched Bhikkuni’s change, then clapped her hands together when it finished. “Oh! It’s pajamas! See, Mikey fans? Bhikkuni is rocking some actual pajamas. You know, the kind with pants? This is what pajamas look like! Yeah, and even with pants, it’s still pretty exciting! Something to think about,” she chided her audience, crossing her arms and huffing.

“And Exorcist has… hm. Not exactly pajamas, but it’s at least proper sleepwear,” she concluded, nodding and still failing to keep her eyes anywhere but Exorcist’s chest when observing her. “But hey, hey! You don’t have to go for the leg-day show off just because I am!! Although I’m sure all the Counterinfectualists out there appreciate it, yeah. Everyone out there, be sure to tell me what you think about Exorcist’s nightgown!” she shouted, pointing to the camera.

She turned her attention to Yajna with a gasp. “Nude! But, uh, we don’t have heavy blankets here, so you shouldn’t…!” she started, before realizing that wasn’t her intention. “Oh! Oh yeah. Those look super comfy for a cold night and I’m actually super jealous, cause this is pretty breezy on the legs. You know, I’ve been thinking for a while now, Yajna is really into fire, right? Hope her hot pajamas aren’t making you Mikey fans out there sweat!” she announced. The fact that she was still making low-hanging-fruit puns about it suggested she might not be fully aware of just how obviously and dangerously into fire Yajna was.

MicrophoneGirl whipped her attention back to Bhikkuni as she announced she was giving it another shot. “Oh! I actually did think those were supposed to be your sexy pajamas, though,” she admitted, putting a hand to the side of her face. “What do you think, everyone? Is it fair for Bhikkuni to get a do-over?! I’m pretty sure everyone is gonna say yeah yeah, but if not, send me a message! Now, Bhikkuni has-“ she started, staring at Bhikkuni’s legs. “It’s sexy!! Of course, it’s super sexy!” she declared, shouting loudly as if to reprimand someone else who had said otherwise. “Now we gotta-“

She had obviously been in the middle of announcing what they’d do next, but she paused as she realized what Exorcist and the others were thinking. “Hey. Hey hey hey! What, uh, you don’t like Mikey’s signature cool microphone helmet?” she accused them, flushing and looking a bit affected as Exorcist approached to take it off. “That’s… No, noo, nuuuuu!” she shouted, holding it down tight to her head with great strength. “ADNET told me their mystery sponsor said I absolutely couldn’t take my helmet off for the show! It’s not that I don’t agree with you. Without my armor, this helmet throws off the whole look. But that’s how it is. Sorry, Counterinfectualist girls. Sorry, Mikey fans,” she announced with a bow, turning to the camera. “But, hey, enough of that! We’ve still got a big show ahead, and uh, it seems like you’re still gonna see plenty of Mikey, yeah…”

“Exorcist!” she shouted, pointing at the other woman. “You know what I do to find out what my fans want?! I ask them directly, on my forum, yeah yes! That’s what I’ve done tonight, and we’re now going to go directly to fan requests! What questions do you, the Mikey fans, have for Counterinfectualist girls tonight? Let’s get right to it, with-“ she started, turning her face from where she’d brought it close to Exorcist, whipping around to Bhikkuni. “You! Mikey’s fans and watchers wanna know: first question: Discipline!” she shouted, before lowering her eyebrows thoughtfully. “Discipline? Discipline, hm. I guess they wanna know, does Counterinfectualism have like, some code of discipline or punishment? That’s a kind of weird questions since I don’t get the sense that there’s a strict moral code with it, but maybe, like, if you don’t bust enough viruses a month, you have to say ‘I’m sorry yeah’ a hundred times or something? Give us the scoop! Next-“

She swung around to Yajna, plopping down beside her. “Yajna, yeah. Yeah-jna,” she said in a mock-somber tone as if preparing for hard hitting journalism. “Our fans wanna know, from you: what gets you excited?! But hey, Mikey fans, isn’t that a silly question? It’s fire! I already told you like just a second ago that I can tell she’s into fire! She loves fire and wants candles close to the bed and all that. Did you guys post this question before I told you? I’m checking the time stamp… Okay, yeah, that’s an old question. I’m going to another. It says ‘What is your type?’ How about it, Yeahjna? Give us that hot, spicy dish! Next-“

She rolled on the bed back over to Exorcist in an energetic motion, probably unaware that it revealed the briefest glimpse of white panties with bold, dark purple stripes. “Exorcist, yeah. Yeah-cksorcist,” she declared, before thinking about it and shaking her head. “Nah, I’m not keeping that one. So, fans want to know: ‘Can you teach Mikey how to do a cute dance… to get lots of Counterinfectualists?” Mikey reddened a bit, laughing. “Uh, huh? I mean, you just put your hands forward and do the peace signs and wiggle your butt and that’s it, isn’t it yeah? And, isn’t that more of an exhibitionist thing than a Counterinfectualist thing? Except- Oh!” she shouted, as if struck by a bolt from the blue. “My fans probably want to see me do that, don’t they? Or is there some even more exciting dance that two people can do? Exorcist, even I’m curious now! Teach me and today I’ll become Counterinfectualism’s star disciple!!”

Bruce grinned at Teruko, then rubbed the back of his head, shooting a quick glance at Terumi sitting elsewhere. “Hey hey, I have been on my absolute best behavior! I haven’t been sued yet, right?” Of course, he wasn’t surprised to learn Teruko had been picked up Terumi’s strange interest in him, but he hoped she wasn’t aware of how much real estate Terumi was taking up in his own head. ”But c’mon, that’s just healthy! It’s not like I’m thinking of her instead of Teruko, just thinking about both of them! Both of them at the same time. And nobody can sue me for having a fantasy, anyway,” he defended himself in his head.

He watched Teruko jog off with single-minded focus, then rose to his feet. He reached in his pocket, pulled out his wallet and snuck a quick look inside, but didn’t find what he was looking at. “Crap. Looks like I left it at the bike,” he muttered. When Teruko came back, it was his turn to jog off, heading to his bike. “Fast, like you said!” He pointed her to head towards the changing rooms, then ran at high speed towards his bike. He had a lot of faith in Becky’s harassment ability, but not so much faith that he was going to stake his entire chance on it. He’d really been hoping that Teruko would join him back at his apartment, they’d turn on a movie for background noise, and the rest of the day would go from there… Unfortunately, he had to admit it’d be hard to sneak out like that. There was definitely some fun to be had in doing it this way, too, though, and he was going to have his fun even if it killed him.

Bruce had been in a hurry, but some instinct slowed him down. He looked at his parked motorcycle curiously, wondering what trick of the light was making it look like it was shooting sparks.

With only that warning, a flame burst from his bike. It seemed to grow cartoonishly, ballooning slightly before flying into pieces. What he’d come for whizzed past his head in the saddle compartment, still attached to the saddle, no longer attached to a vehicle. One wheel rolled limply away from the disaster site as another spun in place. The body was a twisted, flaming skeleton getting only a short, sad bit of air time before clanging noisily to the ground.

Bruce had enough presence of mind to check and make sure nobody around him seemed to be hurt, being miraculously unharmed himself. Once he had, he hurried over the still dangerously burning bike, unable to convince himself there was nothing left to salvage. He stumbled and fell down to his knees, pulling his PET out. “Dare! Dare, call the fire department here! Call the police! This is… a nightmare!”

“Hey, my day was a nightmare, Brucey Boy,” Dare muttered, in no better of a mood now that she’d endured the teasing of Bruce and his girlfriend. “What have you got?”

“My bike just exploded!” he shouted, waving his arms wildly to clarify he wasn’t exaggerating. “Crap! Craaaap…”

“Seriously?” Dare muttered, trying to appear properly sympathetic in light of her aching head. “Okay, fire department is on its way. But why the police? This isn’t the first time a bike you were on exploded, you know? You were even on it, one time!”

“That’s just it. I’ve seen bike explosions. This was no ordinary explosion. It looked like there was… a bomb or something in it. Whatever, I really want it investigated.”

“Okay, okay. That’s rough,” Dare admitted, putting in the call.

Bruce put his PET down, brushing himself off and making his way to Teruko, scratching at his head and occasionally glancing backward at the wreckage. “Okay, uh, this looks bad. Well, it is bad. Crap, I was gonna sell that thing like tomorrow! But… this is like some kind of divine coincidence? Invention, or whatever? Look- I just won money from a contest I didn’t even enter recently. I guess something Dare was up to. Anyway, with that and my savings, I already planned to go shopping tomorrow. Was gonna surprise you with a new ride soon. I’ve gotta stay here and probably answer some questions, talk to my insurance and all that now… Sorry. But maybe we could meet up tomorrow? You can meet my bike contact and we’ll check out the new models. You know, make lemonade out of lemons. Call it a date?”

Bruce was definitely the type to recover from such an alarming incident alarmingly quickly, but this was a bit much even for that. Truth be told, he really was excited for that new bike, and he had to assume this bad luck was just to balance the good luck of his recent sweepstakes win, just like pain was the necessary balance to getting to spend a day with both Teruko and her sister and their legs.

Hopefully Teruko would answer him in the affirmative. The departments had shown up quite quickly, and he already had to answer a couple of questions. “Call you early, okay?” he’d shout as he jogged over there, unless she’d for some reason adamantly refused his invitation.