The Ancient Ship (6)
The fact that Artraia was present caused a brief snarl of confusion in the report.
"Reporting, Minister."
"Go ahead."
Both I and the squad members were professionals, so we snapped back into proper form in an instant and delivered a clean, coherent report.
"The combined Sevelian–Prosnark Coalition unit successfully secured the interior of the ancient vessel at 1300 hours Kazan Standard Time."
"Mm."
Artraia was standing right beside us, giving us a faintly odd look, but for the moment none of us chose to acknowledge it.
"Ah, pay Us no mind. We are merely observing."
She had said as much herself, so fretting over her presence would have been the greater sin. Besides, we had far more pressing matters.
"Wait—you secured it in a single day?"
"Yes, sir."
Precursor forces should still have been inside. How had they managed to take the ship so quickly?
The question must have shown on my face, because the reporting officer hastily added more detail.
"We did take casualties fighting the Precursors… but at a certain point the vessel’s internal defense systems began targeting only the Precursor forces exclusively. After that, the operation became far easier."
I wondered for a second whether my ears had malfunctioned.
"They didn’t attack you?"
"Correct. In fact, when we were in danger they sealed bulkheads and blocked Precursor fire, actively trying to minimize our losses."
"It was a coordinated defense system!"
The situation made no sense, so I tossed out a probe.
"Does that even make sense? You didn’t just choreograph your movements so the defenses would create a crossfire for you?"
"Minister, as capable as we are, we can’t set traps with systems we neither control nor even know the locations of."
The immediate, firm denial made me nod in acceptance.
"Understood. Fair enough."
But that was not the end of it. Other squad members began crowding into the frame around the reporting officer.
Surely not—were they about to pull the same stunt as last time? The whole “We must gaze upon the Minister’s august countenance!!!” frenzy? My finger drifted toward the terminal’s end-call button.
"Um… Minister? There’s something else we need to report…"
"Hm?"
Contrary to my expectations, the people on the screen did not look manic. If anything—
A sidelong glance.
They seemed to be gauging someone’s reaction. I made no effort to hide my puzzlement.
"What is it?"
When the squad members only muttered and hesitated in answer to my question, even Artraia and Riel started looking curious.
"Did you find something weird? Spit it out already."
Riel’s irritated snap at their stalling finally steeled them. They exchanged nods and spoke.
"Minister… this ship is a living ship."
"…What?"
"And the biological core that manages the vessel wishes to speak with you. What are your orders?"
I had not expected those words.
The moment they left the squad members’ mouths—
PAUSED
A Bond from the Ancient Age
After brushing aside every obstacle in your path, you have at last claimed a vessel believed to have been constructed in the Dark Age.
And now, the ship’s biological core is requesting a conversation with you.
Choice 1: I don’t even know what this thing is. I can’t just accept a transmission. (Event ends)
Choice 2: An interesting proposition. I’ll answer. (Linked event proceeds)
Just as Choice 2 promised, an extremely intriguing event window had bloomed right in front of my eyes.
Hold on… was there an event like this?
The moment I actually saw it, doubt surged unbidden through my mind. As far as I remembered, the ancient-ship event never had a linked chain like this.
Was this even the same event I remembered?
Damn it. My memories feel completely scrambled.
Since time was frozen anyway, I deliberately dug through my recollections—and the oddities piled up one after another.
Free-ship events were not unheard of in the game. In fact, they were fairly common…
But the entity managing the ship contacting me?
Normally you either finish surveying the ship and claim it, or the survey fails, the ship turns hostile, you beat it into submission, repair it, and use it. That’s it, right?
In no version of those outcomes had the “something” managing the ship ever opened a channel to the player or the empire.
I kept turning it over inside the pause until I finally arrived at the most reasonable conclusion for the situation.
Must be because it’s been so long. My memory’s just fuzzy.
Not that I was going senile. Sevelians lived far longer than true humans and aged far more slowly. Physically, my current body was still the equivalent of a fresh human under twenty—prime of youth.
The problem was separate from biological age. I had been transmigrated into this world for over sixteen years, and the sheer volume of crises I had been forced to handle had simply maxed out my mental storage.
So I accepted the limits of my own memory, and—
Choice 2: An interesting proposition. I’ll answer. (Linked event proceeds)
Ah, an ancient-era super-massive battleship! How am I supposed to refuse that?
I decided to accept the event before me with an open heart.
PAUSE LIFTED
With the pause released, I nodded toward the squad members on the screen.
"Very well. Tell that… biological core I will speak with it."
"Understood, Minister!"
A short while later.
The feed showing the squad members cut out. Hyperspace-comm static crackled across the channel, and then—
"Ah… can you hear me? Can you see me? I am the administrator who manages this ship."
A rather young-sounding voice—yet one whose gender was impossible to pin down—came through the screen.
"I hear you. You are the biological core of the vessel our forces have secured?"
"Yes. And I’m also the one who helped your subordinates resist the people trying to destroy me."
Opening with a bold “I worked hard helping you people,” huh.
I nodded at the bio-core’s transmission.
"I am grateful for your assistance. However—what is your intention in conducting this conversation without showing yourself?"
"Oh, the video isn’t coming through? That would be because the ones who tried to destroy me sabotaged the comm facilities."
Whether that was an excuse or the truth was something the squad members already searching the ship would determine. I let it pass.
"I see. Then let us move straight to the point. Why did you request a conversation with me?"
I asked the self-proclaimed ship’s bio-core and administrator for its purpose.
At my words the “administrator” fell silent for a moment… then:
"Before that—do you have any intention of revealing who you are?"
"…"
The unexpected reply left me hesitating. Beside me, Riel shot me a mocking look.
In answer I casually produced the Etiquette Injection Rod from my coat and let her see it, then straightened my collar and answered with proper formality.
"Mm. Your point is well taken. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arto Virtorius Sevili, Minister of the Foreign Executive Ministry of the Holy Sevelian Empire and a member of the ducal ranks."
The other party’s tone brightened at once.
"I don’t know what the Foreign Executive Ministry does, but if you’re a minister, you must be quite high-ranking, yes?"
"…Well, yes."
"What I want is simple. I want you to grant me and this ship the right to remain within the nation you serve."
At that, Artraia—who had been silent until now—cut in with a distinctly prickly tone.
"You want us to take you in when we don’t even know what you are?"
"Ugh."
"You too, Arto. Picking up something the Precursors are about to destroy, right when they’re already marking us, is not a good idea."
Her thoroughly realistic assessment made the words You signed off on the seizure yourself rise all the way to my throat. I swallowed them. The reason I kept quiet was that Artraia’s reaction was textbook—someone whose switch had been flipped and who was now in a foul mood.
And the timing of that mood shift? Right after the administrator’s “What does the Foreign Executive Ministry even do?” remark.
Probably because a ministry she poured so much effort into—one people call the Emperor’s blade or fist—just got dismissed. She’s seriously offended.
For Artraia it was a matter of pride. I simply shut my mouth and hoped the moment would pass quickly.
Then, immediately after—
"The voice I just heard… is that your wife, Minister? If I offended her, I apologize."
"…"
"I only want one thing, Minister Arto. Will your empire take me in?"
"Arto. I believe we must bring this awakened friend from the Dark Age into the Empire’s embrace."
The instantaneous about-face left me mentally reeling.
Still, we had at least secured the ship. I was about to contact the squad and order them to return to the Empire with the vessel when—
*Ding♪*
A familiar notification chime sounded from my terminal, and a new event window bloomed before my eyes.