Episode 221

So, apparently, I screwed up the scheduled posting and it went live early.

Oh well, whatever. It stays—

"—Repeating. We, the Mercenaries Expeditionary Fleet, acting under the authority of Sod Myers, Director of the Security Department and Admiral of the Expeditionary Fleet—who has been delegated full operational rights by Headquarters—have received and examined the claims of the Rising Sun Alliance. We are prepared to alter our future course of action. To this end, we demand an immediate cessation of all combat activities currently occurring between the Zayed Southern Region Space Expeditionary Force and the Rising Sun Alliance Forces. Furthermore, we formally request a ceasefire based on the Emergency Ceasefire Clause of the Imperial Government Private Military Law. In addition—"

The wide-area communication from the Mercenaries Second Fleet blared through the speakers. Taro stood on the bridge of the Plum alongside Marl and Koume, listening to the loop for what felt like the hundredth time.

"—The aforementioned Admiral Sod Myers and two Adjutants shall be dispatched as special envoys to the Rising Sun Alliance Forces. They will approach for negotiations in a small craft and will carry no armaments, with the exception of standard Anti-Debris Defense Armament and Anti-Particle Defense Weapons. We request that you refrain from attacking. This transmission is being sent simultaneously to the Alliance Council and Mercenaries Headquarters, as well as to the Galactic Imperial Government, the Gigantech Corp Governing Body, and the Imperial War Law Bar Association as neutral third parties. Repeating. We—"

Taro reached out and slapped the speaker toggle to ‘off.’ He stared at the Radar Screen, his jaw hanging open like a landed fish. True to the broadcast, the silhouette of a tiny ship was out there, blinking its beacon like a desperate firefly.

"Wait, wait, wait. A ceasefire? For real? Like, for real-for real? Is that allowed?"

Taro looked at Marl, his eyes wide with disbelief. As far as he was concerned, they were just sitting around waiting for the investigation team to report back anyway. This felt like a gift from the gallows.

"Allowed or not, they’re the ones who brought it up," Marl said, her lips pouting so hard she looked like she’d swallowed a lemon. "And it actually looks like they’ve cut their engines. All of them, except for that tiny shuttle."

Taro squinted at the Radar Screen. Sure enough, every single enemy ship was tagged with a bright, blinking status: [STATIONARY].

"I don't know what kind of game they're playing, but I guess we should hit the brakes too... Wait, didn't Bella say the investigation wouldn't be done in time for the big showdown with the Second Fleet? If this stalls things, we might actually make it!"

Taro felt a surge of hope. Depending on how long these negotiations dragged on, the clock might actually be in their favor for once.

"…Koume?"

Taro noticed Koume had been uncharacteristically silent. When he called her name, she let out a sharp, dismissive "Hmph" and wore a look of icy severity that usually meant someone was about to have a very bad day.

"We’ve been played," she said, pointing a slender finger at the shuttle on the Radar Screen.

Taro’s heart sank. He knew that look. That was her 'you’re an idiot' look. He walked over to her, his brow furrowing. "Is it that bad? It seems like a pretty sweet deal to me."

"No. Negation, Mr. Teiro. Our opponent possesses a certain… malicious wit. I estimate that we have been shoved into a rather deep corner."

"Whoa, hold on. Walk me through this. Use small words. Explain it like I’m five."

"Certainly, Mr. Teiro. First, look at this."

"Look at wha—WHOA!"

A massive holographic screen surged up from the floor, nearly taking Taro’s chin with it. He scrambled back, narrowly avoiding a faceplant. Marl, equally curious, scurried over to join them.

"According to the Emergency Ceasefire Clause of the Imperial Government Private Military Law—"

Koume pointed at a wall of dense, terrifyingly boring legal text. She looked down at Taro with a gaze so cold it could have served as a localized cooling unit for the ship’s reactor. Taro knew she wasn't mad at him, but he still felt a shiver crawl down his spine.

"There are various restrictions during the negotiation of an emergency ceasefire. For our current situation, three points are paramount. You do understand them, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah. I think. I did an Override on military law once," Taro said, rubbing his neck. "First, stop shooting. Obviously. Second, fix positions—meaning no sneaking around to get the high ground. And third… uh… emergency evacuation rights?"

"A gold star for you, Mr. Teiro. We have just concluded Operation Vibe Storm against their pursuit force, dealing them a crippling blow. Several of their ships are dead in the water. The enemy is faced with a choice: abandon the crews to the void, or spend precious time rescuing them. What do you think they will do?"

"Based on their track record? They'll save them. But they can’t do that until the ceasefire is over, right? Since positions are fixed, moving ships around inside the minefield—er, the Vibe Field—would be a total foul."

"Precisely, Mr. Teiro. However, one does not need to move a ship to recover a crew."

Koume turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Taro's. He tried to process the implication, but Marl beat him to the punch with a sharp gasp.

"You’ve got to be kidding me! Are they going to scrap the ships?"

Marl’s face was a mask of pure horror. Taro’s brain finally caught up, and his jaw hit the floor again.

"The emergency evacuation regs… you're allowed to recover casualties and personnel during a ceasefire," Taro whispered. "Are you saying they’re going to intentionally scuttle their own ships or charge them into the Vibe Field just so they can classify everyone as 'in need of rescue'? That’s insane! That’s total madness!"

Taro couldn't fathom it. Those ships cost a fortune. Between the hulls and the Electronic Warfare Craft, they were looking at nearly ten percent of the entire Rising Sun fleet's value being tossed into the trash.

"It is merely a matter of redeeming time with currency, Mr. Teiro," Koume said flatly. "Since no lives are being lost, it is strictly an economic calculation."

She stood perfectly still, watching Taro’s reaction. Taro crossed his arms and groaned. "Even so! If they scrap twenty ships, that's twenty ships we don't have to fight later! We win the attrition war, don't we? Even if they break the ceasefire later, they’re down a huge chunk of firepower. It’s a win for us!"

"No, Mr. Teiro. I suspect they have no intention of breaking the ceasefire. In fact, they will likely perform their rescue operations with agonizing, leisurely care."

Koume looked entirely too smug.

"Huh?" Taro tilted his head. "Wait, Koume," Marl interrupted, "that doesn't make sense. If they’re trying to save time, why would they take their sweet time with a rescue? Shouldn't they be rushing?"

"No, Miss Marl. There is no need to rush. Because they are already under a ceasefire."

"Yeah, but that's what I’m—"

"Miss Marl. Please recall the fundamentals of Classical Physics. The Principle of Relativity."

Koume’s voice rang out like a bell, cutting Marl off. Marl stared at her in silence for a few seconds. Then, her eyes went wide. She lunged toward the holographic screen, her face inches from the data.

"Okay, seriously, what is happening?" Taro asked, raising his hand like a confused schoolboy. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

Neither of them answered for a long moment. Finally, Marl looked up, her expression grim.

"They're moving, Teiro. The enemy fleet… they definitely turned off their engines. But they're still moving toward the objective."

Taro squinted at the screen. "What? No, they're stopped. Output is zero. The radar hasn't moved an inch. Is it a ghost image? Jamming?"

"No, Teiro. You can’t 'stop' in space. Not really. Everything is relative," Marl explained, her voice trembling. "Everyone has a vector—a direction and a speed—and that only changes if you apply force. Speed is just a matter of perspective."

"…I’m not following."

"Ugh! Look! We both cut our engines, right? That means we stopped accelerating. It doesn't mean we lost the speed we already had! To us, it looks like we’re both standing still because we’re moving at the same speed. But to the destination? To the facility? The entire fleet—us and them—is still screaming toward it at max velocity!"

Taro froze. Wait. I get it. It’s the train thing. If two people on a moving train stop walking toward each other, they're still moving relative to the station. And since there’s no friction in space to slow us down…

"So they gained as much speed as possible, then 'stopped' to trigger the ceasefire rules?" Taro shouted. "That’s cheating! That’s total BS!"

"I-I know!" Marl yelled back, her face flushing as Taro leaned in too close. "Legally, it’s probably fine. But it’s incredibly infuriating!"

"I see... so that’s why those bastards did that 180 and accelerated before calling for the truce. They were building up a head of steam! Forget it! No way! I’m not accepting this ceasefire!"

Taro began frantically mentally drafting a 'Drop Dead' response. But Koume’s voice cut through his panic like a scalpel.

"And how do you plan to do that, Mr. Teiro? The enemy is 'thoughtfully' broadcasting this to every corner of the galaxy."

Taro stopped fidgeting with BISHOP and looked at her.

"If we unilaterally reject a plea for peace, how will you persuade the Council? What will you say to the millions of Imperial Citizens watching this play out? We only have the public’s support because we claim to be the 'just' side, fighting to expose the horrors of The Facility. Now the enemy says they are willing to listen. They’ve even sent an unarmed Admiral as a sacrificial lamb. It is a performance, yes, but they have already cut their power. If we open fire now, how do you think we will look to the galaxy? Legally, we might get away with it. But politically? It would be suicide."

Taro stood frozen. Koume wasn't done.

"Do not think we can simply act like outlaws because we are in outer space. If the Empire receives a formal complaint, the authorities will take notice. Even Dingo had to follow the rules eventually. And then there is Gigantech Corp. They don't care about helping us; they care about their brand. If we become the villains of this story, they will drop us in a heartbeat."

The bridge fell into a suffocating silence. Taro rubbed his eyes, his brain churning.

"Custom says we have to negotiate a compromise speed, right? Dammit... we’re running out of time. Can't we… I don't know, define a jump-capable position near the facility as an 'advantageous position' and forbid them from moving there?"

Koume shook her head slowly.

"Possible, but unlikely to work. The enemy has not publicly admitted that The Facility is a military target. Until we prove it is a strategic objective, we cannot claim that moving toward it is a 'hostile maneuver.' Paradoxically, proving that is exactly why we are fighting in the first place."

Taro let out a long, defeated sigh.

"So what? We just sit here and suck our thumbs while they drift right to the front door?" Marl snapped, pacing the bridge.

"No, Miss Marl. Not at all."

Koume turned toward her, a cold, predatory smirk spreading across her face.

"We simply have to 'persuade' the enemy commander that our claims are true during the negotiations. If he concedes, we win. Do not think of this as a truce. Think of it as a different form of combat. I retract my previous statement, Mr. Teiro. We are not in a predicament. We have been handed an opportunity."

Editor’s Note: Based on reader feedback regarding some confusion in the text, I’ve made the following clarifications:

1. Added detail to show the Mercenaries’ engine shutdown was a tactical performance, not a result of a settled agreement. 2. Clarified that the ceasefire request is legally flimsy and unfair, but Taro’s team is politically trapped into accepting it.