The Great Chaos of Milano. (4)
And of course, there was no way Ilena and Heisenberg would let a situation like this go to waste.
"Effective immediately, we will be deploying the Black Scourge Legions to launch a large-scale offensive against the pro-government factions."
-"On our end, we'll send the factions political pressure alongside messages encouraging their defection."
"Uh, hm."
"The good cop, bad cop strategy always works wonders—especially when there's a genuine armed struggle underway, as there is now."
-"Heh heh heh."
"Mm-hmm."
-"If you think about it, they struck at us first. I believe it's perfectly reasonable to reach out to certain 'friends' in the capital and arrange some appropriate backroom deals."
"An excellent idea. Mobilizing our entire fleet to keep them from moving about freely sounds good as well."
"Waaah."
Some deeply unhinged conversations were flying back and forth, the kind that made me almost pity the enemy just from listening in.
But then again, as the saying goes, even an ox horn can be pulled out of you with patience—I had, after all, kept letting slip my intention to put that 'capital march plan' I'd conceived moments ago into action.
Listening to all this, I couldn't help but feel a faint unease inside, wondering if this was really how things should be.
And besides, this was strictly our little secret, but frankly speaking, one-third of the Red Scourge currently rampaging across the entire Milano System were ones we ourselves had released—
meaning the moment the Black Scourges charged in, they'd be unilaterally carved up and rendered into biomass, converted into more Black Scourges.
For someone like me, who still prided myself on possessing the sensibilities and moral lines of an ordinary civilian, it felt like these two were going completely off the deep end—and if I felt that way, imagine how the actual targets must feel.
That said, entirely separate from such thoughts, I had already delegated full authority for operations of this nature to the two of them, so I was hardly in any position to complain...
About half a day had passed since we'd collectively decided to roll with the situation in that fashion.
"Hmm, we have a problem."
"What? What's suddenly wrong?"
This happened at the very moment when nothing noteworthy could occur, so I'd left everything entirely to the two of them and was simply existing like a trophy, savoring the soft plushness of Ilena's cool side-boob, when she abruptly declared 'we have a problem.'
When I asked what she meant, baffled by her sudden reaction, Ilena replied as follows.
"The Milano Central Government has apparently drawn its final blade in an effort to resolve the current crisis."
"?"
"As a result, the 'Pride of Lombardia'—one of the three battleships the central government firmly retains—has been dispatched to Milano-V along with its attendant fleet."
"..."
"On the surface, they're claiming they intend to 'restore order to the chaos-wracked Milano-V.' But in practical terms, with the regime itself replaced and the pro-government factions thoroughly purged, the other planets have begun to wobble as well..."
"So they're projecting direct military force to stop it?"
"Precisely."
"Yeah, that is a problem... no, wait a moment. This is absolutely not something we should be discussing so casually."
The moment I heard that the central government's self-proclaimed 'final solution' involved an operation led by an actual fleet containing a battleship,
I'd nodded along without much thought—then belatedly realized this was hardly something to be brushed off lightly, and immediately whipped my head around, cranking my bewilderment up to about a hundred.
But in the face of my reaction, Ilena insisted that her own comparatively placid response had very good reasons behind it—and, as it turned out, she genuinely did have proper justification.
And why, you ask? Ilena's answer:
"Incidentally, do you happen to know where I heard this information?"
"What is it? Your reaction tells me it's something serious, Adjutant."
"Yes. The truth is, this intel didn't come to us. It was sent to us by the ACIC branch here on Milano-III."
"...???"
Out of nowhere, the branch of the Atlantean Coalition of Independent Constitutions (ACIC)—known as the backing power behind the current Milano Central Government—had sent us intelligence.
I could feel my brain tangling itself into knots over and over. What on earth was even happening anymore?
Fortunately, in response to my baffled reaction, Ilena continued her explanation without missing a beat, kneading my cheek with one hand as her reward for surrendering her side-boob...
"It's quite simple. Even ACIC can no longer sit back and watch the sheer incompetence of the current Milano Central Government."
"Is that so?"
"If they had exercised just a little more care and refrained from such shoddy subcontracting, the whole affair could have dragged on for several more months, even another year or two."
"Hmm, but wouldn't that have been pointless anyway? Either way, losing to us was a foregone conclusion."
"Viewed purely on results, yes. The problem is that if they had bought that much time, they would have safely collected their additional payments through annual contract renewals..."
"Ah."
"With the Milano Central Government bungling the response and an astronomical sum of under-the-table money evaporating, they had no choice but to see red."
"Oh..."
"There are various other reasons as well, but those two are, I'd say, the largest."
Just like us, ACIC had its own shadowy corners—
and once I grasped how the situation was actually flowing, all I could do was hang my head, muttering that the world was one disgustingly convoluted place.
But that was neither here nor there. The critical point right now was that the Milano Central Government had dispatched a fleet—one containing an honest-to-goodness battleship—straight to this Milano-V.
"So what's the plan now, Adjutant?"
"Given the circumstances, the answer is simple. We simply move up our own 'capital march plan' toward Lombardia as well."
"Oh... but they have a battleship?"
"No cause for concern. After all, we will be using 'civilians' as our shield."
"Eh?"
On top of that, when word came that the other side intended to charge at us with a battleship-bearing fleet, our response was to wage a mindless war of quantity with 'citizens'—
thereby ensuring that no matter what overwhelming force they possessed, they would be unable to fire on us. That was the strategy Ilena put forward.
I found myself thinking that this really wasn't easy to stomach, and yet at the same time feeling a strange sense of assurance—ah, this is why I can trust them with the work.
That said, if there was one problem here, it was this: with 'civilians' serving as our shield, even if we intended to counter-rush,
doing so necessarily required a 'leader' for the crowd—someone to guide that mass of civilians on the march to the capital...
And the result:
"I don't like the sound of this."
"Please don't worry. Everyone is wearing their spacesuits at all times in preparation for any eventuality."
"Adjutant. Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't that mean that the moment we take a hit, the ship doesn't hold up—we just get ejected into outer space?"
"Also, the truth is that if we stayed on Milano-V, the special forces attached to the central government's fleet would come to abduct you, Doctor."
"Ah."
And so, with the inescapable reality arriving whether I liked it or not, I grumbled and grizzled the whole way—dragged off kicking and screaming, swallowing the mustard through my tears, as it were. Something like that, anyway.