The Promised Day Arrives

Right as the restoration of the three battlecruisers that had gotten thoroughly wrecked last time wrapped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up, construction finished on one additional heavy cruiser, two light cruisers, four destroyers, three patrol ships, and two resource mining ships…

A message popped up saying base construction was complete, so I was half-watching the fleet status while knocking out various odds and ends when the thought hit me that the event ought to be starting any time now — and right on cue, the long-awaited event message bloomed in front of my eyes.

"At last, the promised day is here, Jessica."

"You mean the day we enter the event?"

"Exactly that."

Not quite hitting five hundred points was a little disappointing, sure. But I figured we'd done about as well as we reasonably could, so I started assembling the fleet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for the event.

Of course, "assembling" was a generous word for it. Entering the event would put the entire base and its surrounding zone into invincible mode, so the plan was simple: leave behind twenty resource mining ships to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠keep naturally hauling in minerals and rare materials while I was gone, plus five of the heavily modified transport destroyers for cargo runs — and drag every other ship we had into the event with us.

One sore point: the moment I tried to bring the mercenary companies along, the system shut that idea down cold.

Huh. No wonder they never mentioned it.

Probably because they wanted this locked down as pure PvP. By thoroughly barring any fleet that wasn't the player's own power, the whole strategy of dumping every resource into building mercenary companies was dead on arrival.

That said, I wasn't exactly crushed about it.

"If we can't use mercenaries, doesn't that mean this whole storyline was designed with you in mind, Commander?"

"Hmm… not really? They never let you bring mercenaries or faction fleets into this event to begin with."

"Is that so."

"Yeah. Besides, it's not like we're swimming in resources right now."

"…We have over three hundred thousand minerals and more than forty thousand rare materials, though?"

"…Not anymore."

"Ah."

Can't use mercenaries?

Sure, it was a real shame that I couldn't crack open every resource crate piled up from the auction house, the exchange, and gacha pulls and declare a "Raise a Hundred Thousand Mercenaries" doctrine…

But by the time players were walking into this event, anyone who hadn't been completely idle would have pushed their base to at least rank seven. That meant fleets running four to five hundred points, maybe up to six hundred at the high end.

Even a five-person team would be rolling two thousand to twenty-five hundred fleet points. Ten people? Over five thousand points easy. Ship counts would climb into the thousands if anyone was serious about it — and in a brawl of thousand-ship fleets, what difference would a mercenary company of ten or twenty vessels make? Especially when most of them were light cruisers and smaller. Hiring a few extra companies like that barely moved the needle.

"Commander, the mercenary office says a company with three battlecruisers wants to discuss a contract."

"…"

…They still shouldn't exist. Seriously.

How, the instant I finished my mental victory lap, did the universe turn around and go "nope" by dropping a mercenary company that ridiculous right in my lap?

The heavens looked ready to serve me another massive middle finger, and for a moment genuine irritation rattled through me — but that was that, and this was this.

"Jessica, how much to hire them?"

"A thousand minerals and two hundred rare materials a day."

"Mm… good. Sign them immediately."

"Got it. I'll finalize the contract through the mercenary office right away."

I hired the company in advance, just in case we needed them to survive whatever battle-royale free-for-all might come knocking after the event ended.

Between that and everything else, the real preparations were about ninety-eight percent done. All that remained was packing repair materials into the transport destroyers and calling back the resource mining ships still working the resource ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠zones.

"Commander, the rest of the superhumans are all ready."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes. Though Rain is half-merged with the base, and the… D-grade ones are staying behind. Griyanaar put them into her personal modification systems."

"…Right."

The unexpected detail threw me for a second, but only a second. Everything that could be prepared was prepared. I opened the gallery one last time to check what the other players were up to.