The Rodin System War Council
The next day.
"Hmm-hmm-hmm~"
Until now, Eirin had worn a perpetual frown. The war situation was unfavorable, the rebels' proposed fleet battle demanded endless study, and her thoughts of Beatrix and Jincheon only added to the weight. Today, however, joy and happiness drew a natural smile across her face.
"Ahem."
Arriving at the conference chamber where the officers and ace pilots had gathered, she composed her expression and entered with as blank a face as she could manage.
Click. Click.
The sound of her heels striking the floor accompanied her entrance, and the low murmur of conversation among those present fell silent at once.
Hm?
Huh?
What is this?
They sensed something strange.
She wore only the barest makeup—nothing different from her usual appearance.
Why does she look even more beautiful?
Thanks to Jincheon, Eirin had come to know a woman's pleasure and happiness, and with that awakening a new sensuality had bloomed in her. That sensuality only sharpened her femininity further.
Lady Beatrix was the same, and now Lady Eirin too… they don't look any different, and yet…
Why do they suddenly look so beautiful?
Those present had already been startled by Beatrix's appearance after her rescue from the deserted island. Beatrix, once the very model of a soldier and as far from femininity as one could get, had transformed into something beautiful after her return. The strangest part was that aside from a faint copper tan to her skin, she wore no makeup and had made no effort to adorn herself—yet she still looked radiant.
Both sisters had suddenly grown beautiful as a pair, but given their stations, no one dared speak of it aloud. They could only swallow the observation in silence.
"Everyone is present. In that case, we will begin the council on the Rodin System fleet battle."
Rodin.
A star system of gas giants, ice worlds, and barren wastelands with no special resources—its development value was extremely low. It held little strategic worth either, and so neither the loyalist forces nor the rebels had paid it any mind.
"Viscount Baldert. What of the rebels' movements?"
At Eirin's command, Viscount Baldert—the intelligence officer—laid out the information he had gathered on the enemy's movements and composition.
"Yes. With the jamming cleared, communications have become smooth again. The planetary defense forces all testify that the rebel fleets are withdrawing."
"And the reconnaissance units we sent to the Rodin System?"
"Several of their fleets have already arrived. Even after sighting our scouts, they made no attack."
"So they truly intend to fight a fleet battle."
At that moment one of the commanders raised a hand. Eirin gave a slight nod, granting him the floor.
"Count Genoldan."
"We cannot be certain the rebels will actually commit to a fleet battle. Would it not be better to gather our fleets and seize the capital instead?"
"Hmm…"
"They are nobles of the Giranlek Empire who have already soiled their duty and honor. I see no reason we should be dragged along by their intentions."
It was not an empty argument. The other side were rebels; there was no obligation to follow a rebel proposal. If the side that held legitimacy won—even by underhanded means—the rest could be settled simply by restoring public confidence on the strength of that legitimacy.
"That would be difficult, I fear."
"And why is that?"
Viscount Baldert, who had been confirming the rebels' movements for Eirin, raised an objection to Count Genoldan's words.
"If our legitimacy rests with His Majesty the Emperor, then the rebels' legitimacy rests with the rebel emperor, Galdoorn."
He was a member of the imperial family, yet as the rebel emperor who had plunged the empire into chaos, no one objected when his name was spoken freely.
"And that Galdoorn has already shown himself in the Rodin System first."
"What…?"
Count Genoldan had never imagined the rebel emperor would be the first to arrive at the site of the proposed fleet battle. He faltered, his words dying in his throat.
"A surprise attack might reclaim the capital, but in the end we must take Galdoorn to end this war. That means we have no choice but to go to the Rodin System."
Eirin added the explanation and regretfully set the count's proposal aside.
"Your suggestion is not a bad one, Count, but the capital's defenses are no trifling matter. Their vulnerability to enemies within has been exposed, yet against external foes they remain formidable. Force our way through those defenses and we may meet the rebels already battered and bleeding."
"Mmm…"
The capital planet of the Giranlek Empire, as befit a capital, bristled with defensive installations built to the latest standards. Even if they forced a breach, friendly losses would be catastrophic—and once those defenses were destroyed, occupying the capital would grant them no advantage when the enemy arrived.
"I apologize for not releasing the intelligence sooner."
"Ah, no. I was far too hasty."
Count Genoldan bowed his head toward Eirin, who had preserved his pride, and settled in to listen once more.
"Viscount Baldert. Continue."
"Yes. Should a fleet battle take place, the greatest threat to our forces will be the mercenary fleet led by Dolche Rockgumton, Seventh Fleet Commander of the Resili Mercenary Group."
Anyone with even a passing interest in galactic power blocs knew the Resili Mercenary Group. Russelion Iliyan Resili—who carried the thickest blood of the Draconians, the galaxy's strongest race—had built it from the ground up, filling its ranks with only the most gifted warriors. It was the strongest and finest mercenary force in the galaxy.
Its Seventh Fleet Commander was Dolche Rockgumton, a fleet captain known for never losing his composure and for running his command with rock-solid stability no matter the situation.
The Seventh Fleet's composition: one dreadnought-class flagship under Dolche, fifty-eight battleships, one hundred twenty-two cruisers, three hundred sixty-one destroyers, one hundred seventy-four corvettes, and twelve hundred mechas.
Every one of them was a proven fighter. Alone, they possessed the combat power to conquer a minor nation. The loyalists' disadvantage in this war stemmed not only from the genius strategist Count Sherdon Mills Gaden, who had been swayed by Galdoorn's persuasion, but from the fact that the Resili Mercenary Group's Seventh Fleet had been hired by the rebels.
Had the Resili Mercenary Group not been involved, the loyalists' star systems would never have fallen.
"Tsk. This is why the lowborn…"
"A pack so mad for money they don't even know the meaning of honor."
The commanders—all of them nobles—cursed the Resili Mercenary Group, but cursing solved nothing. Eirin cleared her throat lightly and reset the mood.
"Is there any other intelligence?"
"This is everything we have obtained so far."
"I see. You have done well."
Eirin offered Viscount Baldert a brief word of praise and opened the council proper.
They began by weighing the scale of both forces. The loyalists fielded two dreadnoughts, two hundred thirty-seven battleships, five hundred eleven cruisers, one thousand three hundred twenty-three destroyers, two hundred fifty-four corvettes, and forty-six hundred mechas.
The rebels numbered roughly ten percent fewer across the board—until the Resili Mercenary Group's Seventh Fleet joined them, tipping their total strength above the loyalists'.
An enormous scale.
Seated among the ace pilots, Jincheon took in the numbers of both sides. The mere thought of waging war at this scale sent a shiver down his spine and stoked a hunger for battle.
And this was after the rebels had already cut their forces in half. In a true interstellar war, combining rebel and loyalist strength and matching the enemy to a similar scale would mean legion against legion with mecha counts reaching ten thousand.
Of course, those forces never gathered in one place—but this time both sides had agreed to a fleet battle, and so the spectacle would unfold.
"Would it not be wise for us to hire mercenaries of our own?"
One noble raised his hand, secured the floor, and proposed hiring mercenaries even now. Numerical superiority in war was, after all, crucial. A laser rifle, if it could fire at all, could shoot down a C-class mecha even from an F-class frame—though beyond laying down a distant web of fire, one could hope for little else.
"That will be difficult. The Resili Mercenary Group is a legend among mercenaries. They will refuse any contract that pits them against Resili."
A noble well-versed in mercenary ways countered the proposal. There had been many twists and turns in the past, but the Resili Mercenary Group now boasted a one-hundred-percent success rate on every commission that dispatched a fleet. Even mercenaries who sold their lives for coin regarded fighting Resili as suicide; few would accept such a contract.
"I am of the same mind. Hire mercenaries now and no one will answer."
Eirin, too, responded skeptically to the idea of hiring mercenaries and resolved to fight with the forces they had.
"The rebels know the Resili Mercenary Group's strength as well. They will entrust one of their main axes to them."
Eirin thought for a moment, then made a declaration that struck the room like a blow.
"For this fleet battle alone, I will appoint two supreme commanders."
"What?"
"Two supreme commanders…?"
The more people who held the highest authority to judge and issue orders, the more chaotic those orders became. Anyone with even a scrap of knowledge about war regarded such a decision as taboo. The chamber reeled—but Eirin was not finished.
"Galdoorn will sit safely in the rear. In the end we will have no choice but to break the enemy by direct assault. I will take the Rastold Silverion and face the Resili Mercenary Group myself."
"Y-Your Majesty the Dowager!"
"That is far too—!"
The nobles recoiled in horror at the Dowager's declaration that she would take on the Resili Mercenary Group.
"By rights the supreme commander should be me alone, but facing the Resili Mercenary Group will make it impossible to watch the whole field. That is why, for this occasion only, I am setting two supreme commanders."
"It is too dangerous!"
"The Resili Mercenary Group is no ordinary foe!"
If the Dowager fell, the aftermath would be unmanageable. The nobles tried desperately to dissuade her. Eirin's will, however, was iron.
"The greatest obstacle in this war is the Resili Mercenary Group. We must defeat them—or at the very least match them so the line does not buckle. If anyone here can take that role in my place, step forward."
"…"
"…"
Anyone who held power in the galaxy knew how terrifying the Resili Mercenary Group was. The nobles who had been pleading with Eirin fell silent the moment they were asked to face them themselves.
"And if a little luck is with us, we may drive the Resili Mercenary Group back more easily than expected."
"Pardon?"
At the claim that Resili could be driven back easily, several nobles wore blank, foolish looks and asked again. For their benefit, Eirin revealed a peculiar rule of the Resili Mercenary Group.
"The Resili Mercenary Group has an unusual rule. If a fleet commander dies, that fleet withdraws from the war."
"But… that is impossible."
A noble familiar with Resili carefully objected.
"Other nations that know the rule have tried surprise attacks with ace pilot units, or all-out charges that accepted heavy losses. And yet…"
Since the Resili Mercenary Group's fleets began deploying, their commission failure rate stood at zero percent. They might make strategic withdrawals under enemy pressure, but in the end Resili always won.
"A fleet commander's flagship is dreadnought-class, and it carries the commander's personal guard. Every one of them pilots a B-class mecha, and their skill is ace-level. Even the Imperial Guard cannot claim superiority over that guard."
Listening to the description, one felt the force of a final boss pouring off the page. The problem was that the Resili Mercenary Group fielded twelve fleets in total, and the lower the number, the stronger the fleet. The enemy they faced now was the Seventh Fleet—merely average by Resili standards—and still this was the talk surrounding it.
"Jincheon."
"Yes."
When Eirin called his name, every gaze turned toward the voice that answered. There sat Jincheon, smiling—identical in features to the Giranlek people around him, yet with larger irises than their pale sclera-dominant eyes.
"Can you do it?"
"Of course."
"Good. I will give you the Calsorn Empire equipment you discovered on the deserted island where you and Beatrix were stranded."
The other nobles already knew that Beatrix and Jincheon had found Calsorn Empire ruins and developed optional parts that upgraded Gareld. Under ordinary circumstances reverse-engineering would have been mandatory, but given the situation they had decided to entrust the equipment to Jincheon's party.
"I grant you free rein to roam the battlefield as you will. Should you find an opportunity to strike the Resili Mercenary Group's fleet commander, you need not report—move at once."
"For Your Majesty the Dowager, I will sink the enemy flagship without fail."
Hired by Eirin, Jincheon had become an ace pilot the Giranlek Empire could no longer do without. The other nobles were dissatisfied that such a heavy burden had been placed on him, yet they could not step forward themselves, so they kept their mouths shut. Anyone who raised an objection here would only have the bomb tossed into their own lap—and they knew it.
Instead of opposing the proposal head-on, they focused on crafting Plans B and C against the chance of failure.
The council continued after that, and in the end strategy was drawn up on the premise that the Dowager herself would face the Resili Mercenary Group.