Endgame 1, by DarkBeta

[All characters herein belong to Tatsunoko Productions, even the nameless walk-ons and Galactor goons.]

(Jun and Ken share a tender moment, so this must be a warm-and-fuzzy story. Right?)

The porthole on an upper level of their hidden base was near enough to the surface that the water outside glowed with blue light. Jun found Ken there, sitting against a corridor wall and staring into the blue as he might once have stared into the sky.

He did not notice her at first. She could indulge herself, watching his eyes like windows to another sea. His face had a child's faith even after the battles they'd fought. His hair needed trimming. When had it not?

He'd finally seen her, and looked quizzical as she went on staring. Jun felt herself blush.

"I'm sorry. Do you want to be alone? I just wondered where you went."

"That's all right. Stay . . . if you want to?"

She sat beside him, closer than necessary for a friend and team-mate, but not so close that she couldn't claim innocence. They watched the shifting waters.

"I dreamt . . . ." Ken started, and swallowed.

"Mmmm?"

"I dreamt the war was over, and we'd won. There were parades, confetti, parties . . . . You insisted that I had to dance with you. Afterwards I asked you . . . ."

Jun looked sideways as his voice trailed off. He was the one who blushed, this time.

"Must have been pretty bad. I didn't know you had dreams like that, Ken," she teased.

"N-nothing like that!" he said hastily, hands waving as if to erase any improper images. "I asked you for a date, that's all."

"What did I say?"

"I woke up," he said gloomily.

He put a hand behind his head.

"If my dream had gone on longer, do you think . . . ?"

"I'd have said yes. Ken, I'd say yes . . . to almost any question you asked."

He blushed again, so she wondered what questions had come into his mind, and then she blushed at her own imagined possibilities. After a moment, looking fixedly out at the ocean, he reached one arm to fall across her shoulders.

Jun shifted closer – much too close for a friend and a team-mate – and put her hand down on the floor between them. Ken put his other hand down on top of it. Then, after so many years, they were holding hands. Jun sighed, and leaned against him.

So close to the outer skin of the base, the corridor was chilly, and even chillier as sunset approached and the waters darkened. She couldn't hide her shivers for long.

"We should go back to the others," Ken said.

She nodded reluctantly, and stood up, and stared out the porthole while Ken got up also. He took a while to lever himself up onto the crutches, but she knew he didn't want help. The doctors had saved his leg and most of his foot, but he would never walk unaided again. Jun's good hand moved to cover the bad one, the one with two fingers and a thumb missing, and the last two fingers stiffened into claws.

"Jun . . . ."

His voice was somber. She forced a smile, and hurried to distract him.

"Oh, a fish! I saw a fish, a big one! I haven't seen anything that size for ages. We should tell Ryu. Maybe he can go out with the speargun tomorrow."

Ken let himself be deflected, though she saw familiar shadows in his eyes.

"We need the protein."

Adults had been on half rations for two months. This week, children were too. In this as in so much else, the Kagutai Ninja Tai were considered – insisted on being considered – adults. Ken's blue eyes burned more intensely above hollowed cheeks. Gaunt and waiflike, Jun looked even younger than she was.

They had to grope through dark corridors to reach the main section. The lights were left off, especially if they could be spotted through the portholes. What little energy the base garnered from thermal and solar collectors kept the hydroponics lit and warm. Air was more important than sight.

The ISO survivors stayed clustered in the hydroponics area to conserve heat, and for the comfort of company. Ken and Jun came blinking out of the shadowed corridor. They saw one more than usually gathered there.

"Joe!"

His head turned as he searched for them, from where he sat by Ryu. Ken threaded through the crowd as swiftly as his crutches would let him. Jun followed, smiling apology to those Ken brushed past. She got smiles of acknowledgement in return. Everyone here was familiar with Ken's breakneck pace on the crutches.

She started to hum, a faint lilting tune that had been a favorite on the Snack J's jukebox. Joe took a couple of careful steps to meet them.

"Ken. And Jun," he acknowledged, reaching a hand out.

Ken propped himself on the crutches and caught it in both of his.

"Joe! I'm glad to see you in from the chill for a while."

"It's good to hear your voice, Ken. And yours, Jun."

The black cloth covering his eyes turned toward her. Ryu snorted.

"Now I know how to get noticed. Disappear for a couple days."

Jinpei had been leaning against his shoulder. The boy came forward and clung to Jun instead. The five of them settled back against the metal wall.

"So, how's Hakase?" Joe asked.

"Still working on his whatever-it-is," Ken reported. "He says he's been able to make some remarkable theoretical advances . . . while we wait."

Ryu laughed before anyone could turn melancholy.

"It looks like a still to me. Hakase keeps talking about bubbles and foam, so I have my suspicions!"

"The universal foam, where the structure of universes interpenetrates," Jun explained. "It extends the technology of the God Phoenix effect. We might be able to exchange information across singularities, and look into an entirely new universe!"

"Poor old God Phoenix," Ryu muttered.

"Joe, will you come and visit the lab with us, later on?" Ken asked. "We're not the only ones who worry when you disappear."

"Might as well."

Jun remembered her news.

"Ryu, I saw a big fish. Do you think you could go look for it tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Watch out, fish!"

oooooooo

Halfway across the globe, a messenger fell to his knees before the King of Earth.

"News, Katze-sama! The camera-fish has found one last hidden refuge of the despised ones."

"Excellent," Katze purred. "We've run low on heretics. They do encourage productivity. Show Me what has been discovered."

Images flickered on the viewscreen. The mound was disguised as a buried atoll. Some tidal surge had ripped away pieces of its camouflage, or it might still have lurked unseen. It was not one of the ISO's larger bases. Galactor would probably harvest no more than half a thousand from it.

Drawn to the glint of metal, the robot fish had discovered a viewport. Light from the surface revealed movement behind it. Katze gasped at the scene. Two of the five – no, six – faces that he loathed most in the world. And where they were, the others might be also.

He watched the clip of video over and over. At last he chose two images to keep and gloat over. A momentary ripple of light that showed the ruin of the Swan's digits. And the Great Eagle, barely able to pull himself up from the floor.

"Surround the base," he ordered. "If any of them are harmed before I arrive, My Inquisition will have work."

Oh, what games a cat could play, with broken-winged birds! The war was over. The Kagutai Ninja Tai had not won it.