Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: Crisis on Paradaisos
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“Getting some rest?”
Fortunately, the words seemed to hit home. Merdi’s eyes widened slightly as she shot back.
“Didn’t I tell you we’d be on the move all week?”
“That was the original plan...”
The schedule had been to wipe out every hatching facility growing on this planet.
The sector commander had been extremely cooperative, too, allowing us to pull out maximum support.
But there was no resisting a summons from Darmosa. “No need for the headache.”
Merdi stood from her seat and brushed her mussed hair to one side.
Her bob, which had only reached the nape of her neck back at the Academy, now flowed past her shoulders.
“It’s grown a lot.”
“...Huh? Oh, my hair?”
“You used to keep it short.”
“I’d need time to get it trimmed.”
She glared at me as she spoke.
Fair enough. The past three months had been so hectic we couldn’t spare a thought for anything else.
If we hadn’t assigned enough support staff, it really would’ve been a disaster.
Anyway, she kept fiddling with her hair, so I blurted out without thinking.
“Long hair suits you well.”
“...What?”
“For real. Right?”
“Yeah, it does. Makes me wanna grow mine out too.”
Roze gazed at Merdi enviously. Constant brutal combat had naturally kept her own hair cropped short.
Merdi scowled, spat a single retort, and stormed off the bridge. “...Nonsense. I’m heading to my quarters—don’t come looking till we arrive.”
“Merdi, wait up!”
Roze hurried after her in quick steps.
Shepin, just entering the bridge, crossed paths with them, and snippets of conversation drifted over.
Then Shepin strode in, chin in hand. “What’d you do this time? The Ice Witch is pissed again.”
“Don’t call her that. If she overhears, we’re toast.”
“What’s the harm? Even royals get trashed behind closed doors.”
He snickered, dragging over the armchair Merdi had vacated and plopping down beside me. “And you’re saying our captain did nothing wrong? Wanna run through the list again?”
“Ah, enough.”
I waved him off, clamping his mouth shut.
Shepin had been the most floored upon learning the truth about the Independent Unit.
You could say he voiced what others held back.
I was in no position to argue, anyway—my fault for dragging them into this mess without proper explanation beforehand.
“No wonder they’re frustrated, cooped up in this tin can during their prime. Reflect on it, Captain.”
“Yes, sir, reflecting...”
“Boo, boring. Might as well trip her and see what happens.”
Same old line.
Even amid exhaustion, Shepin had hit on every woman aboard.
When it started getting out of hand, Sia stepped in to shut it down. Problem was, with no outlet for his frustrations, he’d turned to meddling in others’ love lives.
And I bore the brunt of it.
“Types like her? Grab ’em firm once and they’re done. Don’t believe me? This Casanova Shepin guarantees it.”
“The Casanova with a 0% success rate?”
“Hey, those were all married women. Plus no time, and Sia watching my every move—what’s a guy to do?”
Where’s Rodrigo when you need him.
Only Rodrigo or Sia could shut this guy up, and both were MIA.
Frederic up front never butted into personal chatter.
Navigation prep finally finished, freeing me from Shepin’s clutches.
*
“Yawwwn...!”
Exhaustion pried my mouth wide.
I barely covered it with my hand when a teacup appeared before me.
“You look beat. Drink up. Coffee.”
“Thanks, Senior.”
Steam rose invitingly.
I stared blankly until I snapped to.
“What about Darmosa?”
“Meeting. He’ll be a bit.”
Tana Silva had come to greet me in his stead.
Seemed like yesterday she’d handed me over to Central Knights Division, but seven months had already flown by.
“Plenty of time till then. Make yourself comfy.”
“...Aren’t you busy, Senior?”
“Same as always.”
She set a cup at her own desk, sank into her chair, and dove into paperwork.
The familiar sight drew a smile.
Midway, Tana kept her eyes and hands on the documents but tossed a question my way.
“Heard from Darmosa—you own Salmon Research?”
“...Yeah.”
“Blown away. Thought you were just connected till then. How’d you keep it under wraps?”
Salmon Research had stayed in the spotlight since unveiling energy amplification tech.
From obscure insider knowledge to household name.
Yet the owner remained a mystery.
Most figured it was a joint Monarch-Mohaime venture, or Fontana Untel funded by them.
My name popped up occasionally, but only as a Monarch affiliate with some pull.
Likely because shareholder lists stayed private.
“It just kinda... happened.”
“Now I get why Darmosa fusses over you so much.”
Somewhere along the line, Tana was staring straight at me.
Her face unnaturally blank.
A sudden dissonance hit me from her demeanor. ‘Was all that friendliness... an act?’
Her canon disinterest in anyone but Darmosa had struck me as oddly warm from the start. Guess there was a reason.
Tana Silva was off-kilter too.
‘Makes sense—no sane person would pull that stunt.’ As I thought it, she slipped back to her usual expression, eyes on papers.
“Thanks for caring about me and Darmosa.”
“...Sure.”
“Thanks to you, we even went on a date. Held hands—he was so tense.”
Her cheeks flushed at the mention of Darmosa.
That much seemed genuine.
She’d always been utterly sincere with him.
“And hook us up with those amplifiers cheap, yeah?”
“Of course. Around the fighter contract rate.”
Military pricing stuck to razor-thin margins.
Salmon’s motto since the initial fighter deal.
They’d even chewed out the rep once, thinking the price was a mistake.
Bump it slightly and profits soared, but I’d passed.
‘Gotta back him more.’
Even if things were better than canon, the Alliance teetered.
Humanity still on the defensive against aliens, casualties mounting.
Hold this line till a new phase at least.
“Want anything? He’ll approve most.”
“Tell you later. Too many eyes now, as you know...”
I was fine as is.
Business perks flowed regardless.
From top brass to staff, everyone loved us—doors stayed open.
“Wise choice.”
Darmosa appeared just as I finished my coffee.
I’d expected cheer, but his face was grim—trouble for sure.
Tana dropped her work the instant he arrived, poured him tea.
“Urgh...”
He slumped into his chair, hand over face, groaning.
“What’s up, bro?”
“Big problem. Sigh...”
His mental armor cracking again.
I waited without pressing.
After a while, he straightened.
“...Sorry. Made you come just to see this mess.”
“Nah, it’s fine...”
“Nonstop crises. That’s why I called you.”
“What’s the deal?”
“One frontline collapsed. Garrison fleet half-wrecked, superhumans nearly wiped out.”
“That’s...”
I frowned instinctively.
No brushing this off. ‘Holes starting to punch through one by one...’
Frontlines were breakwaters.
One crumbles, rear civilian zones face more raids.
No immediate crisis, but pressure on defenses would build over time.
“How?”
“Six hatching facilities popped up. Massive raid on top. Superhumans hitting the hatcheries got isolated—all dead. Fleet risked rescue, took heavy hits retreating.”
“Damn...” Losses enough to daze.
Six meant over fifty superhumans deployed.
That many gone? Gaping hole in the line.
‘Recapturing’s a pipe dream...’
Surely not asking me to join recovery.
We’d gained fame lately, but limits existed.
This was beyond.
Darmosa knew, adding, “Don’t worry. Not sending you there.”
“Then?”
“Check this.”
He pulled up a hologram.
It showed a planet under alien assault.
I spotted the symbol in the corner. “Cross Federation?”
“Yeah. Paradaisos—one of their colonies. They’ve requested Alliance aid.”
I peered closely.
Paradaisos screamed classic failed early suppression.
Hive clusters centered on a fresh five-hatchery site.
‘Tough nut...’
Cross Federation fought aliens independently, separate front from Alliance.
No news till now suggested success, but this said otherwise.
“Can’t ignore it.”
“We owe them plenty. So—go for me.”
“...Us?”
“Yeah.”
“Well...”
No yea or nay yet—just a groan.
Paradaisos sat on the same fourth defensive line but outer edge—far out.
No Drive Gates there either, so safety meant four-day transit minimum.
Round trip over a week.
Too much for my packed schedule.
“Handle it, and I’ll count it as a hundred.”
“Seriously? Wait, that all?”
“...You’re transparent.”
“Unit’s got barely five superhumans. One Shila-class ship? They’ll roast us as ‘support.’”
I laid it on thick, face of steel.
Strike while the iron’s hot.
Four days each way wasn’t bad for our rest-starved crew.
Hell, plenty would dance for a breather.
“Fleet support from reserves. Your unit just aids hatchery assaults.”
“Again?”
“Greedy. Temporarily delegating personnel authority—pick two. Roster by... ten hours from now. Launch then.”
“Roger.”
I answered fast before he reconsidered.
The two were superhumans, obviously.
‘Kinda bummed.’ More time would’ve been nice.
Could’ve grabbed Barton and Sahim, but ten-hour limit locked us to Central superhuman pool.
Faces in mind, I headed to muster the team.