That was where the real trouble began.
We were currently stranded in the off-campus schoolyard owned by the academy, and communication with the school was dead.
Half of Veronica’s Imperial Guard was still stationed back at the academy, so they were likely safe. The fact that we couldn't reach the other half here was a terrifying thought, but...
The transport craft operated on an automated pilot. Unless the scheduled return time arrived tomorrow or someone at the school headquarters manually overrode the system, we weren't going anywhere. The Imperial Guard had arrived on that same transport craft.
We had been caught completely off guard. If only the guard had been waiting in full combat gear... No, that was just being wise after the event. Carrying war-grade equipment onto school grounds would have been its own brand of insanity.
And so, we were stuck here until rescue arrived or the training clock ran out.
Actually, under normal circumstances, this shouldn't have been an issue. We were on a neighboring planet; there was no reason for communication with headquarters to be completely severed. Even if the main systems were down, we had the Imperial Guard's portable communication devices. The audio quality might be terrible, but they should have been enough to call the Capital Planet for help.
"Lord Groom, it is no use. The Imperial Guard's portable communication devices are also non-functional."
"O-Oh..."
It was just one "impossible" situation after another. I swallowed hard, my throat feeling tight.
"Hey, instructor! Is the Shaping Printer working?"
"Yes, Your Highness! It's operational!"
"Repair the Lord Groom’s machine at once! Imperial Guard! Double time it to the base the Lord Groom discovered and scavenge for ballistic weaponry! Students, split into two groups and assist them!"
The students enrolled in the maintenance course headed for the factory. The rest grabbed bikes and accompanied the Imperial Guard to the base.
Could a five-hundred-year-old machine even be fixed? It seemed like a massive hurdle, but in reality, it wasn't a problem at all. All I had to do was fabricate the parts with a Shaping Printer and put them together using a Machine Assembler. Worst-case scenario, I could just refit the whole thing to modern standards—provided I had the time to draft the blueprints. Given our situation, I probably didn't have that luxury.
"There's a humanoid drone back there. I’m going too."
"I would prefer for the Lord Groom to rest, seeing as you are our primary combatant, but... those of you in the medical course, prepare the high-calorie nutrients! The Lord Groom and Claire need to dose up! Lord Groom!"
With that, my wife tossed something my way. I caught it and looked down. It was that.
A syringe.
It was definitely one of those shots that messed with your head—the kind that turned your brain to mush to dull the fear of death. Exactly the sort of thing you'd see in an adult manga.
"Use it."
"Isn't it a bit early for the hard stuff?"
"It is not! It may look similar, but it is not a dangerous drug. It contains recovery nanomachines. If you use it alongside high-calorie nutrients and rest, your fatigue will vanish."
"Well, can't be helped, then."
I pressed the needle against a thick vein in my neck and hit the trigger. With a sharp hiss, the solution surged into my bloodstream.
To be honest, while this was medical grade, it was only the civilian version. There were far more dangerous drugs stored in the schoolyard's infirmary—the real combat-spec stimulants. Students with top-tier grades were authorized to use them in emergencies, but they were so packed with nanomachines they put a horrific strain on the heart. I decided to keep that bit of trivia to myself.
"Claire, you use one too! The Lord Groom shall head to the base, while Claire rests! We have no one else capable of serving as the gunner for the two-seater type! Here, Lord Groom!"
This time, she threw something soft at me. What was this? A cushion?
"The Lord Groom shall ride in the sidecar. You are to nap during the transit! That is an imperial command! Listen, Lord Groom—combat is more exhausting than you realize. You must rest whenever possible."
Veronica didn't earn the title "Pirate Hunter Veronica" for nothing. She had hunted down and slaughtered pirates across every sector of space. She was a veteran of both live combat and command. Naturally, she had taken charge of the situation.
I downed the high-calorie nutrients she'd given me—a thick jelly. Once finished, I clutched the cushion and trudged toward the sidecar. Kevin was already on the bike.
"Hop in. And make sure you buckle your safety belt."
"Got it."
I clicked the belt into place, hugged my cushion, and prepped for a nap. I even popped in a mouthpiece so I wouldn't accidentally bite my tongue, then pulled my helmet on.
"Good night."
I figured I could get at least a few dozen minutes of shut-eye.
...
"Leo... wake up."
Huh? Crap! I actually fell asleep!
"Sorry. I was completely out."
I must have been more exhausted than I thought. I hadn't even realized it. My wife really was a terrifyingly capable veteran...
I left the cushion in the sidecar and stepped into the base. The drone scanned me immediately.
"Where’s the armory?" I asked.
The drone turned and began to walk. It was time for a tour of a five-hundred-year-old weapon cache. Whether the gear would actually work was the main concern, but even if things were broken, we could use the Shaping Printer and Machine Assembler to manufacture replacement parts. It was just a shame that building weapons from scratch was illegal—a counter-terrorism measure.
The armory was filled with relics of a bygone era. Everything there was ballistic weaponry. Light machine guns, rifles, mortars. There were even explosives like rocket launchers and grenades.
"No way... they're like brand new."
The boy with the undercut—the one who'd visited my hospital room—let out a breath of pure shock.
Ballistic weaponry had been abandoned for ages, which actually made this find perfect for us. I stood back and put on my best "wizened veteran" face.
"Oh, Leo! What's with the look?"
"Uh, your name was...?"
"It's Endo. At least try to remember your own classmates."
"Sorry."
My social skills were truly non-existent. Being a hated loner was a rough life.
"Let's move! Help us load these up!"
It was heavy labor, but once we got the crates onto the tracked carts, the work became manageable. We loaded the weapons and hitched the carts to the bikes. The other guys finished their preparations shortly after.
"Alright, we're heading back! Leo, go back to sleep!"
"I can't sleep anymore."
"My, look at him! He’s actually becoming easy to talk to!"
I appreciated the sentiment, but honestly, being able to just fall asleep on command would have been the real trick.
Then, one of the older guys from the Imperial Guard walked over.
"Hey, kids. What’s this? The Lord Groom isn't sleeping?"
"He says he can't," one of the girls chirped, putting on a cutesy act.
Stop making that sickeningly sweet face!
"I've got an idea," the guard said.
"What is it?"
"Hey, Lord Groom. Look over there."
"What?"
Curious, I turned my head to look where he was pointing.
Wham!
It was a magnificent right hook.
Wait, don't people usually go for a tactical neck chop?! Why did that punch have so much lethal intent behind it?!
The blow struck my vitals with pinpoint accuracy. My eyes rolled back, my tongue lolled out, and I went down like a sack of bricks. As I collapsed, the old man caught me and unceremoniously dumped me into the sidecar for the trip back.
Endo told me later that I was twitching and convulsing the whole way.
When I finally came around, I had been laid out on the schoolyard grounds. My "pillow" was a bag of unmixed concrete.
This treatment is way too cruel! I’m supposed to be the Imperial Princess’s husband, for crying out loud!