Chapter 5 part 4

### Righteous Guild member Mr. Narwhal

### Aioi's Perspective

“What? Mr. Narwhal turned down joining our crew for the deep-space patrol again?”

“I mentioned it casually, but yeah, seems he wasn’t feeling it. Said something about the Diana crew not being his scene.”

“Ugh... seriously? What’s with that?”

The Orion Route was alive with the hum of trade season, a peak period for Guild members. Merchant fleets bustled from colony to colony, while freelancers scrambled for contracts to earn those all-important merit credits. Diana, my crew, specialized in escorting merchant heirs through dangerous sectors. With our team mostly women, we were popular for such jobs. But Mr. Narwhal? He wasn’t interested.

Was it because we were all women? but Diana crew have one male member. Sounds like something he’d say, dismissing us with a sarcastic grin. I tried asking Receptionist Mirai at the guild’s control hub. No luck.

“Did you really want him to join?” Mirai asked, raising a brow.

“Well... yeah. Last time I worked with Mr. Narwhal after Stella incident was during that whole mess with the Ravager—the rogue biomech that attacked the Luce mining facility.”

“Ah, yes. Diana’s shining achievement.”

“Right. But instead of praising me for that, all he cared about was how I took down a few raider scouts. Isn’t that ridiculous?” I tapped my foot impatiently against the metallic floor of the ship.

“Ahaha... well, typical Narwhal.”

Mr. Narwhal understood how terrifying Ravagers were. Biomechanical monstrosities capable of slicing through hull plating like soft alloy, they were every pilot’s nightmare. Sure, I handled the raider scouts well, but compared to fighting the Ravager, it wasn’t much. I worked hard in that battle, too. Couldn’t he have praised me just a little for it?

“Honestly, it’s like all he cares about is salvaging wreckage. Typical loner behavior.”

I sighed, frustrated. “I wanted to show him how much I’ve improved since then...”

"Fufu."

Mirai chuckled softly, setting her holo-stylus back in its dock. Her shift at the control desk had ended, leaving the Guild Hall unusually quiet during the changeover.

“Take a seat, Aioi. I’m on break now too. Let’s share some synthi-tea.”

“Sure. But I’m paying.”

“Oh my, so mature of you.”

"Thank you."

The synthi-tea wasn’t expensive, but there was something satisfying about treating myself with credits I’d earned. Moments like this—small comforts in the vastness of space—grounded me, reminding me how far I’d come since leaving my hometown colony.

“You’ve adjusted well to guild life,” Mirai remarked, pouring the tea. The scent of chamomile and lavender wafted from the steaming cups, a welcome contrast to the metallic tang of the station’s recycled air.

“Most recruits from the outer colonies don’t last long. Some desert, others fall into piracy...”

“Yeah... It wasn’t easy. Credits were scarce, everything went wrong, and getting injured meant no income. At one point, I almost went back to prospecting minerals, tail between my legs.”

“The other two from your colony did, right? The boy and girl?”

I nodded. We’d left together, brimming with dreams of making it big in the central systems. Reality hit hard. They returned home, leaving me to face the harshness of guild life alone.

"Those two are doing fine in the colony."

"You were close."

“It got worse after they left,” I admitted. “Lower efficiency, higher costs, and... well, loneliness. I joined other crews, but nothing worked. Missions failed, I got scammed... It was bad.”

I trailed off, sipping the warm tea. “If I hadn’t met Mr. Narwhal, I might’ve gone back too.”

It was about a standard year ago, during a scavenging run in the moon. That’s when I saw him—a lone mercenary with black hair streaked with silver like the circuitry of an old android. He was trying to shoot down a derelict drone with what looked like a toy blaster.

“Don’t mess around! Why isn’t the shot working? This blaster can’t be broken, right?”

The weapon was ancient, its power cells cheap knockoffs. One was even cracked. I thought, this guy's an idiot.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted,

“You’re not salvaging anything with that junk.”

I winced, expecting him to snap at me. But instead, he turned, grinning.

“Really? Got a better idea?”

That was Mr. Narwhal—accepting a rookie like me, even back then, with no ridicule or hostility. He treated me as an equal, something rare in the Guild.

“Is this a training weapon? No way you paid full credits for it,” I said, examining the blaster.

“I dunno,” he replied, deadpan. “Figured it’d be harder to make this level of garbage. But hey, what do I know? Check this out—”

He showed me his other blaster, a half-spec blaster, a sleek and heavily modified model. When he fired it at the drone, the shot was clean and precise, reducing the target to scrap.

“Whoa! That’s a real weapon,” I said, surprised.

“Not bad, huh? Now, if you can strip those drones for parts, I’ll buy them at 40% over market value. Guild contract, too.”

When he saw how short I was on credits, he offered a trade that barely benefited him at all.

"Why waste time just hunting scraps? You should pick up rare minerals and synthetic crystals while you're out. Docking bays always buy them—like this one here."

"Wait, this stuff sells?"

"Sure does. They’re used in quantum processors and hyperdrives. And in raw form, they're valuable to independent fabricators too."

He taught me things I’d never considered: how to maximize every haul, which materials had hidden value, and how to navigate the Guild’s often cutthroat markets. Because of him, I earned enough to join Diana and eventually gained recognition for my work.

I’ve never officially crewed with Mr. Narwhal or flown a mission alongside him, but I know he’s been quietly supporting me all this time. Still... I think it’d be nice to work together, just once.

Mirai chuckled, breaking me from my thoughts. "Narwhal is quite... willful. He definitely marches to his own tune, but he does look after people, in his way."

"Exactly! I think so too. He’s not just some eccentric scavenger buying strange junk at the salvage markets."

Mr. Narwhal’s reputation in the Guild was... complicated. He wasn’t troublesome—he had plenty of allies, after all—but his solitary, quirky nature made him an enigma.

"He’s always alone," I said quietly. "That kind of life... it must feel lonely sometimes."

Maybe that’s why he keeps to himself, I thought. It was easy to imagine Mr. Narwhal alone in the void, just him and his retrofitted half-spec blaster, taking on risks no one else would touch.

I’d heard whispers about him butting heads with the Syndicate, a group you didn’t mess with lightly. He’d probably laughed it off, but that kind of trouble was dangerous even for him.

"I just want him to join a crew," I murmured. "He doesn’t have to be alone. He could join ours, even..."

Mirai gave me a knowing smile. "I get it. But he must have his reasons for flying solo. It’s not something we can decide for him."

"Yeah... I know."

"It’ll be fine," Mirai said reassuringly. "Narwhal’s tougher than he looks, even for a Bronze-class guild member. He’s a little strange, sure, but sincere to the core. One thing’s for sure—he’d never stoop to anything illegal."

"Yeah, you’re right. I can’t even imagine him doing something shady."

"I bet even now he’s out there, somewhere, working diligently. A model Guild member, carrying out his dispatch contracts without complaint."

I laughed before I could stop myself. "Righteous Guild member? Mr. Narwhal?"

"Pfft. Ufufu."

"Hey, what’s so funny, Receptionist Mirai?"

"Oh, nothing," she said with a smirk. "But you laughed too."

She was right—Mr. Narwhal wasn’t evil, but the term *righteous* just didn’t fit him either. Still, he was a good person. A truly good person. And maybe that’s why I couldn’t help but wish for the chance to fly by his side, even just once.