Episode 30

"Whoa... she’s massive..."

Towed by four tugboats, the new Cruiser was slowly settling its seven-hundred-and-twenty-meter frame into the massive dock.

Christened the Plum II, the ship shared the same "Ghost Ship" core as its predecessor, the Destroyer Plum. Its engine housing even recycled the Black Metal Type IN as additional armor. But that was where the similarities ended. Everything else, from its silhouette to its internal specs, was on a completely different order of magnitude. In the world of starships, doubling the length meant an eightfold increase in volume.

"The old Plum was a beauty, but this? This is insane. I’d let a ship like this take me out to dinner and then some," Taro said, his face practically suction-cupped to the glass of the gravity chamber.

"A bit of an exaggeration, don't you think?" Marl sighed, though she was peering into the dock just as intensely as Taro and the holographic Alan standing behind them.

While the original Plum had been a boxy thing with rounded corners, this new beast lacked even a hint of softness. It was all jagged, aggressive lines. It looked as if someone had taken the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, tapered it into a spear, and kicked it over on its side. Four Turret Bays were lined up on each axis—top, bottom, left, and right. Individually, the turrets weren't much bigger than the old ones, but being able to project four times the total firepower was a game-changer.

"An omnidirectional model, I assume?" Marl muttered. "With all those turrets out, it’ll look like a space-hedgehog. It might not be 'pretty,' but it looks like it can take a punch."

"You’re too modest," Taro grinned.

"Out of the sixteen bays, eight are our standard Beam Weapons. Six are Railguns, and the last two? Torpedo launch tubes!"

Taro puffed out his chest as if waiting for a round of applause. Instead, he got two blank stares from Marl and Alan.

"Railguns?" Alan asked, rubbing his temples. "You mean... those Projectile Weapons? As in, solid hunks of metal?"

"You bet your ass!" Taro chirped.

Alan squeezed the bridge of his nose. "Why on earth would you... Taro, kinetic projectiles went out of fashion a thousand years ago. We study them in the Military Academy as historical curiosities. Why are you mounting antiques on a state-of-the-art cruiser?"

"Wait, for real? Are solid-round weapons actually extinct?" Taro asked, blinking.

"I’m an amateur when it comes to military history, and even I know they don't exist anymore," Marl added with a weary sigh. "And what is a 'torpedo'? I've never even heard the word. Is that another Earth thing?"

Taro looked a little awkward under the weight of their judgment. "Well, think about it. Every ship—the WIND included—relies on a Beam Shield, right? I’ve never heard of a ship being weighted down with Physical Shields. So, I figured, why not zig when they zag? Also, a Torpedo is just a giant Missile. I don't know if I should call it a 'torpedo' since we aren't underwater, but it sounds cooler."

Taro used wide hand gestures to explain the concept. The other two just let out a synchronized sigh.

"I knew you were spending tens of millions on custom orders, but I didn't think it was for this," Marl said. "We’ve managed to survive so far, but I’m starting to think the culture gap between your era and ours is finally manifesting in the worst possible way."

"I’m inclined to agree," Alan chimed in. "I figured the Boss had some grand master plan, so I kept my mouth shut. But using the company coffers to fund a retro-hobby? That’s a bold move, Taro. Not necessarily a smart one, but bold."

Taro recoiled as if he’d been physically struck. "Uguu... Look, it’ll be fine! It’s not like I just copied old blueprints. These are modernized. They’ll be useful... probably... I think..."

As Taro’s voice trailed off into a pathetic whimper, his companions looked at him with the kind of pity usually reserved for a three-legged dog.

"Well, let’s just put that in the 'maybe' pile for now," Marl said, trying to move things along. "It’s not like we're a frontline combat unit. Having eight beams is plenty for self-defense."

The three of them stepped into the Plum II, the atmosphere between them still thick with skepticism.

"Oh, wow! The seat Shock Absorber is the latest model! It’s like sitting on a cloud," Marl squealed as she hopped into the pilot's chair.

Structurally, the central control room was identical to the old ship, but the tech had been completely overhauled. Taro had even added custom modifications based on his own "lessons learned" (read: traumatic experiences).

"The displays are all made of Flexible Material," Taro explained, poking a screen that gave way like rubber. "If we take a hard hit, they might warp, but they won't shatter and lobotomize you. Safety first!"

"I see you chose a Warp Stabilizer for the auxiliary slot," Marl noted. "What’s the output like?"

"According to Koume’s math, it can handle ten small WIND ships jamming us simultaneously without breaking a sweat."

"Ten? That’s actually impressive. Most raiders don't even carry jammers, so we should be able to slip away from almost anything. What about the sensors?"

"I went big. Massive scanners," Taro said, pointing to the external feed. "I prioritized resolution over range. I could probably count the eyelashes on a beauty from three hundred kilometers away."

On the screen, the lozenge-shaped scanners Taro had installed were visible on the hull. They stretched out like wings; to Taro’s Earthling eyes, they looked like giant solar panels.

"From the medical bay to the Living Quarters, everything is top-tier," Taro continued. "We’ve got over a hundred medical capsules and ten blocks of Modular Living Quarters. We could probably house two thousand people in here without it feeling cramped."

"Cruiser-class ships really do offer a lot of freedom," Marl mused. "This is the point where a ship is officially classified as a warship, right?"

"Yeah. Everything Destroyer-class and below is just a 'small vessel.' This ship finally counts as a formal unit of the Imperial Military. Honestly, it’s a pain. No benefit other than sticking out like a sore thumb, and the mountain of paperwork I had to sign was soul-crushing. I finally get why people avoid Census Registration."

Taro gave a bitter smile, remembering the days he spent hunched over documents with legal experts. He’d tried to list the ship’s purpose as "transport and trade," which had caused a minor bureaucratic meltdown. In the peaceful Empire, no one used a heavy-duty warship for hauling freight. It was unprecedented.

"I probably should have just bought a dummy freighter to act as the legal 'face' of the company. Then I could have registered this as a private escort... Oh, I also packed a Beam Jammer and a Scan Scrambler. I don't plan on chasing anyone, so I ditched the Warp Jammer."

Marl nodded, seemingly satisfied with that choice. "Leave the pursuit work to a Security Company anyway," she said, already losing herself in the engine and sensor diagnostics. "Two Fusion Reactors... independent circuits... is this a safety redundancy? If I can bridge the logic gates here... maybe I can optimize the control functions..."

Taro knew that once Marl entered "Mad Scientist Mode," she was lost to the world. He decided to leave her to her new toy.

"Control room to Alan. How’s it looking on your end?" Taro spoke into his earpiece.

[ALAN] flashed across his [BISHOP] interface, accompanied by a voice waveform.

"Everything’s green. It’s a bit trippy having a ship stored inside another ship, though. I see two other vessels in the bay besides the Stardust. Recon craft?"

"Exactly. They’re sensor-drones with cockpits. No combat capability, but they're great for scouting. They can run unmanned, but apparently, you have to watch out for electronic hijacking. There was some incident in the past..."

"You mean Incident 4428? That wasn't exactly a hijack... but don't worry. I’ve got this handled. I’m a former Imperial soldier, after all. I know my way around a hangar."

"Roger that!" Taro checked the time on his [BISHOP].

Just as he looked up, the control room doors hissed open.

A woman with flowing black hair stepped inside. At a glance, she looked perfectly human, but several connection lines for an Organic Cortex—the telltale marks of a high-end cyborg—traced across her skin.

"I apologize for the wait, Mr. Teiro. I am still adjusting to the sensation of organic materials. Does this... look alright on me?"

Koume looked down at her arms with a look of pure wonder.

"A-Ah... yeah. It looks great. You look just like a human..." Taro took a couple of steps toward her. Finally.

The body he had gifted her was now covered in synthetic epithelial tissue. Because of this, she finally possessed the one thing Taro had wanted her to have more than anything else.

"Hey, Koume. Can you do something for me? Can you smile?"

Koume tilted her head, looking puzzled for a split second. Then, as if a circuit had clicked into place, she looked up and beamed a radiant, brilliant smile at him.

Along with the ship, Koume-san had grown too.