Prosnark's Eastward Advance (6)
When Prosnark declared war and surged across the border in force, everyone thought the same thing.
"Ah! Prosnark is trying to commit suicide!"
And now, everyone thought the same thing.
"Ah! We're the ones who are going to die!"
Kerzin Combined Fleet.
Inside the command bridge of the Federation's last battleship, the Immortal.
Admiral Brata gazed out across the vast sea of stars and found himself remembering this day three years ago—a day that already felt like a distant past.
…Until then, who could have imagined the Federation would collapse so helplessly?
He stroked the roughened scales of age, clamped his pipe between his teeth, and sank once more into thought.
Our great homeland, our great army, our great fleet…
But it was not long before the admiral reminded himself that he could not afford to remain lost in reverie. He rose from his seat.
Barely a year ago the Kerzin Federation's invincible fleet had still ruled the entire cosmos with honor. In a single year that same invincible fleet had been reduced to a wreck—scrap so thoroughly gutted that not even the shell remained.
And now he was forced to command that scrap with an ancient, obsolete battleship that had never even received proper repairs.
At that sorrowful reality, hot tears threatened to spill from the eyes of Admiral Brata, where fragments of old shed skin still clung.
-Beep-beep-beep! Beep-beep-beep!
"Admiral! Prosnark fleet has appeared ahead!"
Yet the cold, merciless reality refused even to grant the aging admiral the luxury of tears.
"…If this defensive line falls, your families, your homes, your nation will be crushed without a trace by those bastards!"
Forcing his old, ailing body upright, the admiral drew a deep breath through his pipe and roared.
"To all hands: hold this line at all costs! See to it that the Prosnark scum never lay a finger on our nation or our homeworld!"
-"Waaaaaah!!!"
-"Long live the Kerzin Federation!"
-"May the Federation endure forever!"
Listening to the flood of answering transmissions, the admiral raised his command baton and shouted once more.
"All guns open! Entire fleet—pour every scrap of firepower into the Prosnark fleet!"
Even if the chance that he, or anyone else in this fleet, would ever return home was zero.
Prosnark's eastward advance was nothing short of a lightning campaign.
"Gather every resource and piece of equipment and fall back to the defensive line!"
"Not a single grain of food, not a single bullet for those bastards!"
Of course, the Kerzin Federation's vast scorched-earth tactics—and the unopposed high-speed advance that followed—played their part.
But that was a trivial detail compared to everything else that happened.
"Our Federation's invincible fleet could never lose to those exhausted dogs who just marched all this way!"
"Charge! This is the moment we teach those Prosnark bastards a lesson!"
The invincible fleet that was the pride of the Kerzin Federation attempted a three-sided envelopment of the Prosnark armada…
"Idiots."
"Agreed."
…only to be reverse-encircled by Prosnark's stratagem in the massive fleet engagement centered on the Tote system, and annihilated in a catastrophe of historic proportions.
In this universe ships could always emergency-warp out of a battle, of course…
"Retreat! Retreat!"
"Prepare emergency warp!"
"Impossible! We can't enter warp!"
"What?!"
…but the warp jammers that Prosnark had deployed in combat for the first time in this war stripped the unfortunate Kerzin fleet of even that last hope.
"…The Western Fleet, annihilated?"
"The Iron-Blooded Invincible Third Fleet—the pride of Kerzin—defeated? This is absurd!"
Even as the shocking news rocked the galaxy, the Kerzin Federation moved swiftly to reorganize its fleets.
"It wasn't a total wipeout. The surviving remnants are somehow making it back to the homeland, aren't they?"
More accurately, it looked less like reorganization and more like pure cope.
Yet more shocking reports continued to pour in from every corner of the galaxy…
"Our sugar daddy is in danger, they say."
"No matter how brilliant their strategy is, it shouldn't stand a chance against the performance of our ships."
The Golden Fleet of the Zeltech Corporate Alliance—famous for plastering every hull with the most expensive equipment and armor plating in the galaxy—had sortied to save Kerzin.
"Gyaaaaah!!"
"Director! The supply bays of the rear station have been seized by enemy marines!"
"What?! Wh-what is that speed?!"
In their panic the Zeltech forces even attempted shipboard melee combat to stop the enemy's mobility.
"With Zeltech science and technology we can hunt them one-sidedly."
"Exactly! Zeltech tech is number one in the universe!!!"
"While we're at it, why not broadcast our shipboard melee footage and put Kerzin in our debt?"
Unfortunately for the Zeltech personnel who had hoped to film a peaceful hunting vlog, the Prosnark marines were beings far beyond their imagination.
"Aaaargh!!"
"S-save me!"
Under the counterattack of genetically engineered super-soldiers, the Zeltech airborne troops ended up broadcasting uncensored gore footage to the entire Galactic League…
"Welcome to conscription by the invincible Prosnark Marines, assholes!"
"Tah-haang!"
The most pathetic and tragic detail of all was that the footage had been transmitted by none other than Zeltech themselves.
In the end, every Zeltech fleet assigned to the northern front of the three-nation coalition was utterly toyed with by the overwhelming mobility of the Prosnark fleet—and the entire uncensored spectacle was broadcast live across the galaxy.
As a minor side effect, the Galactic League's video-management AI permanently banned every Zeltech IP from League access, but what did it matter one way or the other?
Meanwhile, the third of the three nations—the Ztrakfor Council—had been receiving only relatively dull news while the other two fought total war.
Or rather, to be precise…
"The fleet assembling near the border has been annihilated."
"Stop them! Not one inch of ground!"
"We've already lost five star systems, though."
"…"
"We seem… pretty weak."
Unlike the other two nations, which at least clung to their territory even while taking a beating, Ztrakfor had been pushed back from the border line from the very start.
Yet Ztrakfor, as a superpower, was not destined to vanish so easily.
"You incompetent fools."
"All of you, out! From now on, we handle this!"
The previous cabinet—fresh from concluding resource negotiations with Seveli—ousted the incompetent current cabinet, took its place, and assumed command of the war. And suddenly the story changed.
A situation so bizarre that no precedent could be found anywhere in the galaxy was already enough to spawn countless tales…
"Rise on all six legs, citizens!"
"If we yield to the wicked Prosnark, the flame of democracy will be extinguished!"
"Waaaaaah!"
A competent cabinet.
Sufficient justification.
And finally, a populace burning with fighting spirit.
The chemical reaction born when those three elements combined produced a power so astonishing that even the mighty Prosnark fleets were forced into temporary retreat.
"They're trying to break through the defensive line."
"This won't do. Call up the rear reserves and crush them."
But Ztrakfor's success only prompted Prosnark to throw in the forces it had been holding in reserve and swing a serious punch.
In the end, at the original border zone—the fleet battle in the Proton system—Ztrakfor's main fleet was forced to retreat under Prosnark's counterattack, and the front line fell back once more.
At that same moment, inside the Grand Hall of the Imperial Palace of the Holy Sevelian Empire.
"Did you all see that?"
"…"
"Ahem."
"Mmm…"
Barely a year ago these same gentlemen had been busy trying to tear me apart. Now that my prediction had become reality, they simply kept their mouths shut.
"Tsk."
"Ahem-hem."
And the public opinion of both the palace and the Empire remained in utter turmoil.
"As expected of Duke Arto! His Grace foresaw everything!"
"But it's only been a year!"
The debates raging through every corner of the palace were one thing…
"Minister, the domestic public opinion is pure chaos itself, yeo."
"I don't want to know…"
…but the real problem was the flood of refugees still pouring into the Empire—people who had no desire to become Prosnark's food and soap. That reality was shredding the mental health of every civil servant.
"Ah, shit…"
And then another situation arrived to scrape at my nerves.
"Kerzin, Zeltech, and Ztrakfor have all issued total national mobilization orders!"
"In response to Kerzin's request, the Sir Citizens' Alliance and the Mekt-Pux Free Trade Association are dispatching relief fleets!"
"Hahaha, it seems the Minister's prediction may not come true after all."
"Minister, the angle for victory is still alive…!"
Encouraged by the three nations' total mobilization and the news of reinforcements, these gentlemen deliberately sought me out just to scrape at my insides before leaving.
"…Why are they like that, Minister?"
"I don't know. I just want to ignore them now."
We hadn't even made a bet, yet they were this desperate. I simply could not bring myself to understand it.
"But Minister, honestly, looking at the current situation, it does seem like Prosnark might lose, just like they say, yeo."
Still, I had no desire to watch the people around me cling to wrong ideas…
So I patted the head of the puzzled Riel and delivered a cold, absolute verdict.
"No. Prosnark is going to win for sure."
"Heeeeh."
"Of course I'm not betting anything."
"…Tch."