The blue skies of New Tokio flew by the cockpit's window.
"Crap, every time we go on a patrol, something like this happens!"
Ryohei was upset, shouting over to the rescue pod in the cargo hold.
"Relax, we have to get experienced and that's just a side effect."
"You're way too relaxed! The Nevermore got destroyed! And it's not the first time!"
"I'll get a new one. A Blood Dragon is a Blood Dragon. The pilot flies, not the ship. Relax, Ryohei."
Just a few minutes ago, Ryohei aboard his Blood Dragon ship Sleipnir and his good friend Lord Karasu Hatake aboard the Nevermore encountered a Bounty Hunter Destroyer. Not a nice encounter, not at all. The two of them tried scratching the shields of that monster but all they could do was buying a little time before the Nevermore was blasted to bits.
Ryohei blindly activated the automatic tractor device, just in time to grab his friends rescue pod. The seconds that took the cruise engines to ignite seemed like an eternity to Ryohei and he dropped almost all of his countermeasure flares.
Against all odds, the Sleipnir managed to get away and was now heading to the Honshu jump hole.
Yamamoto Ryohei was still a rookie pilot among the mostly elite Blood Dragons. He was lucky to fly his Blood Dragon, an old and used ship which he acquired three months ago. Since then he was carrying out the first task available for a Blood Dragon: pirating foreign traders.
"There's the jump hole! Okay, docking sequence seems to run well... we're jumping."
"Head for the Chugoku hole, let's call this a day"
"Yes, you are right."
Ryohei still remembered the exciting events that made him join the Dragons.
He grew up on Yanagi Depot in Sigma 13 as an orphan of unknown origin - which practically made him a slave worker for the Junkers. The one that found him as a baby - floating in a lone rescue pod between the wrecks of Sigma 13 - was called Gary Smith. Smith gave him food and a place to sleep but insisted on being Ryohei's custodian. No wonder, as that guy was rumored to be an ex-member of the Slaver's Union.
Ryohei's day mostly consisted in un- and re-loading the ships in the hangar. It was a rough job, normally done by the robots of the base, but from time to time Ryohei got a little lagnappe from the smugglers that frequent Yanagi.
As Ryohei grew 17 years old, he first met a Blood Dragon.
He was in the bar, serving drinks, when a tall, black-haired woman came in and talked to Gary Smith. Ryohei was amazed as he saw someone treating his master as if he was the subordinate. The Blood Dragon spoke in a patronizing, yet very polite way. But it was clear who was the superior one in the conversation.
Later that day, Ryohei was called to load the Blood Dragon's ship - an elegant Red Catamaran bomber, something that Ryohei had never seen before on the base.
He had just put down the last box in the loading space when he started to look around curiously. In the dimmed light he could see blood-red Kanji on the walls. He stretched out his arm to run his hand over the Kanji when he heard voices coming from outside the ship, in the hangar.
"Smith, listen, Junker or not, if you won't agree I see myself forced to execute you. Right here, right now."
"Would you please calm down, Mahana-San... I'm sure we can settle this peacefully."
Nervously, Ryohei sneaked off to a pile of boxes in the hangar. He always had a dislike for trouble.
"You owe me one million credits, Smith. And believe me, you don't want to run into a Dragon's debt."
"Errr... hey! Ryohei! Come over here for a sec!"
Smith had seen him standing next to the boxes. Ryohei had no good feeling when he approached the two.
"Mahana-San, this is my underling, Ryohei. How about he'll replace the sum I owe you?"
The woman had a look at him. For a second, their eyes met. Ryohei felt something familiar.
"You are disgusting, Smith. I didn't know you are the kind of Junker that keeps slaves. You better give me my money. Now."
"Ah, madam, it's a shame that it's come to this."
The next second changed Ryohei's life. Smith reached for his pistol. The Dragon woman unsheathed the Katana she was carrying. With a flowing movement she cut the Junker's hand, then stabbed him in the chest. Smith dropped dead right next to the awestrucked boy.
"Your master is dead now, kid. Do you know what that means?"
The woman sheathed her Katana and looked him straight into the eyes. Ryohei could neither move, nor speak.
"Don't fear me. I have no business with you. But you should know, if he was your custodian and you were his only underling... it basically is the same as if he was your father."
Ryohei didn't reply.
"Sheesh, I'm telling you that you are free now. And that his belongings are yours now. Though there only seem to be his ship and that pistol. Everything else was part of his debt."
"I... I am free?"
"You are. If you ever feel the urge to thank me and express your pride... well. Come to Kyoto, kid."
She entered her ship and took off. No Junker on the base seemed to care for the loss of Gary Smith. The only change to them was that the rusty CSV in the hangar now flew under the name of Yamamoto Ryohei.
Ryohei himself couldn't forget the Dragon's last words.
Ryohei sighed. He always had to explain himself when doing business with the ALG personnel. He looked at the man standing in front of him, an older trader from Rheinland. The wrinkled face was dominated by a gigantic grey moustache and clear green eyes. The ALG employee was just checking the quality of the scrap metal that Ryohei brought to Helgoland.
"Hmm... these are some good plates, they'll pay me a little more for them on Dortmund. I'll take them, kiddo. 20 Credits each. Do we have a deal?"
"Yes, sir."
"You don't need to 'sir' me, kid. Voigt's the name. Besides, what is someone as young as you doing in the scrap fields?"
"That's how I earn my living, Mr Voigt."
"Tch. Like a low-life Junker? You can't be serious, kid! If you're able to steer a CSV at such a young age you could once become a great pilot!"
"I don't intend to collect scrap for my entire life, Mr Voigt... I... I want to join the Blood Dragons one day!"
The old man's eyes widened.
"Good grief, boy, watch your mouth! Shh! You're lucky if you're not killed for saying something like that! The Dragons, you say? Hrmph. Can't say that I like them much. Well, listen boy, I'd really prefer you working for ALG... it's a much more fair-minded way to earn your money... but I think I know someone who might be useful in your case."
"You mean, you know a ..." Ryohei lowered his voice "... you know a Blood Dragon?"
"No, no, I'm glad I don't know one of 'em. But, erm, there is that particular Junker that maybe could help you on. He has ties to any organization you can possibly think of. His name's Sebastian Goldig. He is a Junker from Rheinland and he loves rare pieces of shipwrecks. I'll recommend him to come over to Yanagi. You should speak to him then."
"Err, thank you, sir. Why are you telling me all this?"
"Don't 'sir' me boy, again. I just don't think you should waste too much time in those debris fields here. Sigma 13 is a dangerous place and you can call yourself lucky to have survived this far. Whatever, I'm babbling too much. Guys! Warm up the engines!"
Voigt shouted to the little crew of his transport ship, a gargantuan Behemoth with the ALG Waste Disposal logo on it's side. The crew closed the cargo bay and ignited the engines. Voigt walked over to the terminal. He turned around and looked at Ryohei.
"Don't forget my words, boy. You have to survive! I'll send Goldig to you!"
He entered his ship and the speakers in the hangar began shouting: "The hangar doors will open in 5 minutes! Everyone please clear the hall! Vacuum locks are closing..."
Ryohei went back to the bar and looked down to the hangar hall through the bar windows. The Behemoth slowly turned and took off.
Helgoland's communication system could gently be heard below the bar music.
"ALG Waste Disposal Beta 18, everything clear for takeoff. Good flight, guys!"
"This is the Munin, Voigt speaking. Thanks, we'll come back in a week!"
Sebastian Goldig. On the flight back to Yanagi, Ryohei repeated that name as often as possible in order to never forget it.
As Voigt had promised, Ryohei was soon contacted by the mysterious Junker called Sebastian Goldig. He expected some kind of voice transmission to his comm systems, but the middleman sent an old-fashioned text message to the rusty CSV:
"I'll be at Yanagi in exactly one week. Go to the bar at 3 PM, New Tokyo time, and order two Sakes."
Ryohei was eagerly awaiting the meeting with the Junker. He imagined one of the important pilots, with a big, shiny Pirate Transport maybe, a rich one, that would help him reach his goal.
He couldn't know none of this would be true.
As the week had gone by, Ryohei did as ordered and went to the bar, a bit too early. He wanted to scout the location, in order to get a feel who this person might be. The room was empty, leaving him and the bartender.
Having no choices left, he ordered two Sakes. Right then, someone tapped on his shoulder.
"Yo. Ya must be that Yamamoto-guy, eh?"
Holding the two cups of Sake in his hands, Ryohei was turning around. Standing before him was a boy, certainly younger than him and - this surprised him the most - shorter than him.
"What... who are you?"
Ryohei was sure he knew everyone living on Yanagi, and he had never seen that guy before.
"Huh? Thought the old man told ya ma name. Goldig, man, Goldig!"
"You... no, you are kidding, I am to be contacted by an important Junker, you look like you're 17 years old!"
"16. Man, and I am important." The boy snatched the two Sake cups from Ryohei and walked to the next table. "C'mon, c'mon, let's talk! Call me Sebastian!"
Startled, Ryohei followed the boy. As he sat down, Goldig just put away the second cup of Sake.
"Aaaah. Those Kusarian drinks're good, ya know." He grinned and eyeballed Ryohei. "Now, ya're the wannabe Dragon, eh? Ya sure don't look like it y'know."
Ryohei blushed. "But... how can you help me?"
"Me? Oh, I've got a couple o' connections, ya know" Sebastian said and his grin grew even bigger "but first, how 'bout ya show me those rare metal plates the old man spoke off?"