Houston? We Have a Problem.
Houston? We have a problem.
The moment our stealth systems got completely fried, our ship was left floating out here with nothing but empty space for cover—naked as the day it was built.
And that meant one thing…
Those nano-machine fleets that had looked like nothing more than distant background scenery could now swing their guns toward us whenever they damn well pleased.
"Is there any way to restore them, Minister Vermouth?"
So I put the question to the head of our tech division, Minister Vermouth, hoping she could pull off a miracle.
"Impossible. They were exposed to thousands of degrees for an extended period… it's basically the same as tossing them into a blast furnace."
"Is that so? They look pretty intact from the outside, though…"
"Like I said, looking intact is the best you get after a furnace bath. Internally, everything's melted into sugar-slurry."
Even a mad genius who flung mechanical tentacles around and did every insane thing imaginable had her limits. Some things simply couldn't be done.
Still, sitting around forever wasn't an option either.
So we rode out the silver blizzard, slipped into a nearby asteroid belt for cover, and decided to watch how things developed.
"Minister, what if we just re-cast the melted bits into brand-new units?"
"You actually think that makes sense, or are you just talking for the sake of talking?"
While we were at it, I got a front-row seat to the cyber-voodoo priests trying to resurrect the gooey, half-melted stealth gear.
But I knew better than anyone that we couldn't stay like this forever.
The reason, of course…
Event: Those Who Defy the Grey Nightmare
Planets overrun by nano-machines were usually written off as completely lifeless.
Yet even in those extreme conditions, some people managed to survive.
At first, most of them could barely scrape by day to day under the constant threat of death…
But when the First Allied Fleet—formed by the galactic nations—and the Second Allied Fleet, assembled under the League's crisis contingency plans, were dispatched to relieve the Rixi Republic and discovered those survivors, a spark of hope began to spread across the entire galaxy: this crisis, too, could be overcome.
Damage dealt by galactic nations to nano-machine fleets +10%
Favorability of Galactic League member states toward the Rixi Republic +10%
Events like that.
Event: Counterattack of the Grey Nightmare
Reinforcements pouring through the gate, combined with nano-machine fleets erupting from the overrun planets, have swollen their numbers exponentially and temporarily shoved the Allied Fleet's front lines back.
Nano-machine damage +5%
Additional random event will trigger within 5 days
And this one.
Event: Counter to the Counterattack
The fleets of the Sevelian Empire, which once served as the fire brigade of the front lines during the Warlord Wars, have once again succeeded in preventing a collapse of the battle line.
All that accumulated experience seems to be paying off—certain officers have begun to distinguish themselves in recent engagements.
Number of personnel eligible for admiral appointment in the Holy Sevelian Empire increased
While we were busy stretching the melted stealth gear like taffy and generally wasting time, the real war was raging on without us. Communications were dead, so nobody else knew the current state of the front—only I was getting the live feed in real time.
"Minister, what are you gonna do now, yeah?"
Watching them work, I let out a long internal sigh and answered.
"Once the stealth systems are fixed—or something, anything—we should be able to resume the operation."
"Well, you're not wrong, yeah."
Exactly as I'd told Riel: moving around without stealth was pure suicide. Even if the Leviathan was an overwhelming behemoth of a ship with absurd armor plating…
Take a couple of fleet-scale barrages or a fortress-grade ultra-long-range particle beam, and that would be the end of the story.
Don't get impatient. Getting antsy in situations like this is the dumbest thing you can do.
So I kept swiping away the flood of junk event messages that popped up with that familiar chime every time I was about to forget they existed, and simply waited for the repairs to finish.
Apparently my behavior looked strange enough that Levia—who had been silently watching us the whole time—tilted her head for the first time and walked over to speak.
"Minister? I find myself unable to understand something…"
"What is it?"
"Why have you stopped advancing?"
Since the ship wasn't going anywhere, I had stood up from the throne for a quick stretch. Her question made me pause mid-motion, puzzled.
"What do you mean by that, Levia?"
"Exactly what I said. The damage to this vessel is clearly negligible, so I cannot comprehend why you refuse to press forward."
Her words confirmed what I'd already suspected: anything not directly linked to her "body" was still a complete mystery to her.
I straightened my posture, put on my brightest, most reassuring tone, and explained.
"Levia, I assume you already know our stealth equipment is completely wrecked."
"…"
"Honestly, rather than moving around and painting a target on ourselves before the repairs are done, wouldn't it be smarter to finish the work properly and then operate within a safe margin?"
I wasn't exactly an expert on this stuff, so I was mostly parroting what Riel and the others had told me. Still, Levia only tilted her head further, looking more confused than ever…
Then, with that trademark deadpan expression that suggested she had no particular thoughts on the matter, she spoke in her usual flat tone.
"Minister, it seems I neglected to mention this earlier, so I will restate it."
"What is it that requires all this buildup?"
"My hull—the Leviathan—possesses an intrinsic cloaking function."
"…What?"
"To be precise, this vessel is equipped with the very cloaking capability the Empire—and you, Minister—have been aiming for: complete optical transparency."
What the hell are you talking about, Levia?
The sudden revelation left me struggling to hide my shock. If she knew about a function like that, why hadn't she said anything until now?
The whole thing sounded so absurd that my first instinct was pure disbelief…
"Of course, I am aware this may be difficult for you to accept immediately, Minister."
And yet you're still saying it.
As if reading my mind, Levia rose from her seat, brought up the massive screen installed near my position, and proceeded to prove her claim right in front of my face.
"Internal stealth system—activation complete."
"…Huh."
"And it is not mere concealment. It is closer to rendering our very existence unrecognizable to the enemy."
"Whoa, that's insane, yeah."
"More accurately, it generates localized space-time distortions across the hull surface, interfering with the opponent's ability to observe us at all…"
Listening to Levia's confident lecture, I could only wear an extremely complicated expression.
"Levia, then I have another question."
"Ask anything you wish."
"If we use the hull's native stealth performance, how far can we push against that planetary fortress's sensor net?"
She appeared to run a quick calculation, then answered a moment later.
"As long as we do not descend to the planetary surface itself, I can confidently state we will not be detected."
The performance she promised was so impressive that I found myself nodding despite her blank face. Pride still managed to radiate from that expressionless mask.
But that was secondary.
The real question I needed answered was something else entirely.
"Levia… why are you only telling me this now?"
Why drop this high-grade intel only after we'd already gone through every kind of hell imaginable? The curiosity was killing me, so I just blurted it out.
Levia took a moment to carefully consider her reply… then said:
"Well… you never asked."
The instant those words hit me, I was freshly reminded of a simple truth: conversation really is important.