I am Merlion Pukitaro.
Existing is a trial.
The video of me spewing my guts had traversed the galaxy. I’d been milked for everything I was worth as a tool for Imperial propaganda. It even included drone footage of me fighting in the robot.
Thanks to that, my wife’s popularity and political capital were at an all-time high. The Empire was busy broadcasting that they were restoring order to the galaxy through the heroic exploits of Imperial Princess Veronica and her spouse.
At least, that was the PR spin.
The reality was far bleaker. We were rapidly descending into the same doomed fate as the opening cinematic of Galaxy of the Rakshasa. The Galactic Empire was suffering defeat after defeat, and the territory held by humanity was in a state of constant contraction.
Under the current circumstances, the only reason planets weren't being wiped out entirely was that we knew the basic strategy to repel the enemy, but even so, the Empire continued to lose.
The reason was simple. The only group of lunatics charging into battle with hammers was Veronica’s Imperial Guard, and the only idiot charging into the fray with a chainsaw in a clunky old machine was me.
There was a report that the family home of Melissa—who specialized in the similarly insane tactic of charging with a blade in hand—was putting up a good fight. In short, only the houses where a few wires had short-circuited in their heads were achieving a complete defense. Everywhere else, the Zork had already seized control of significant portions of the planetary surfaces.
I let out a weary sigh.
For the record, there was no jazz playing in the background, and my coffee was from a paper-cup vending machine. It was decaf, too.
I had been strictly prohibited from consuming stimulants. This was a direct order from my wife, who had been absolutely livid about my drug intake—intake that technically warranted a military tribunal. (Incidentally, a Simplified AI Trial had confirmed my innocence just one hour after the battle.)
Now, my only two options were dandelion tea or decaf coffee. Honestly, I would have been better off just drinking water.
What was the point of being a royal spouse again?
At the moment, we were in the middle of space, using an Imperial Guard destroyer and the school’s training ship to evacuate all the students from the Imperial Officer Academy. The artificial station that had housed the school was already in ruins. Half of the instructors had died in the line of duty. I suppose they’ll be resurrected later via clone treatment, but personally, I’d hate that. Coming back after dying? No thanks.
Since the station was gone, we had to find a planet or another station to take us in. We were operating under the assumption that there would be no support or rescue from the Empire. At this stage, that alone told you everything you needed to know about the state of the nation.
On the surface, the lack of rescue made it seem like we were checkmated. However, we could synthesize food, so we were managing better than expected. Of course, that required water, carbon, nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium. It was also generally more cost-effective to just raise plants and animals.
To survive, we were currently towing the artificial station’s recycling facility and plant planters behind the ship. The recycling facility used microbes to decompose excrement into fertilizer, which we then used to grow vegetables. We were also purifying our own water. Water purification was handled by specialized organisms discovered on planets within the Empire. If that unit were destroyed, we’d all be dead in about two weeks.
Fortunately, we had no shortage of bean sprouts, potatoes, tomatoes, and soybeans. Apparently, if we drifted for years, plant diseases would eventually wipe everything out, but we were told we'd be fine for at least six months. Since we also had those mysterious crustaceans, we weren't starving.
Though, once you’ve seen a Zork up close... your appetite tends to vanish. My weight was dropping steadily.
Because of our situation, we held meetings every day. The topic was always the same: "Which planet should we evacuate to?"
The nearby planets were currently active war zones against the Zork. The situation there looked grim, and even the prospect of replenishing our supplies was doubtful. On the other hand, Melissa’s family home—which we knew was safe—was far too distant. We needed a planet that would actually take us in.
Then, one day...
"I have decided to stop relying on the goodwill of others," my wife declared, a roasted sweet potato in her hand.
I had nothing but a bad feeling about that statement.
"The war situation is dire for any planet of the Baron or Viscount House class. They lack weapons and have precious few people with actual combat experience. In short, we would be the ones saving them."
We could help them if we had a way to restock our own supplies, but we were running low ourselves.
"If only there were a planet of the Count or Marquis House class nearby..."
Planets belonging to Counts or Marquises were simply better stocked. Their management might be on the scale of a rural agricultural cooperative, but that was still leagues better than a Baron or Viscount.
As for my own home, Marquis House Kamishiro, it wasn't exactly an impossible distance from the station where the school had been. They didn't have much liquid capital, but they had plenty of physical supplies. They weren't great at war, but they maintained a military force under the name of the Knights. There was a decent number of professional soldiers and police officers, too.
It wasn't a metropolis, though. Furthermore, the man at the top was my father—a man utterly incompetent as a commander. I was useful enough as a grunt, but without my wife, I was basically garbage. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be a brilliant strategist like Yang Wen-li.
I could, however, pull off a convincing Gunnery Sergeant Hartman. After all, I didn't feel like a character from Legend of the Galactic Heroes; I felt like a strange creature from the world of Full Metal Jacket.
"I'll make it so you can't cry or laugh!"
There, I finished the cliché line.
Anyway, my father was a man of pure incompetence who had raised an incompetent son. He was a superstar of the talentless. In peacetime, he might have just barely managed as the manager of a used car dealership—the kind of guy who sprays herbicide on the flowerbeds along the road just because he can. He was a man who had put all his stat points into power harassment.
As a soldier, he was truly trash: he didn't do his job, had zero sense of responsibility, and would tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble. By now, his territory was likely suffering tremendous damage. I felt sorry for the citizens.
"And so, Lord Groom, I have an order for you. Go and invade House Kamishiro."
"Wha—?!"
Was this a "go shoplift from the convenience store" kind of hazing? Was this some new, twisted form of bullying?
"Listen, while I was digging through the records, I found a story about a planet that was seized by pirates half a century ago. Apparently, the lord’s son took control of the military and dismissed his own father!"
"That's terrifying! Why are you telling me that?!"
"The Emperor at the time was absolutely delighted by it. Right, Melissa? Isn't that how it went?"
"Yeah. That was my house," Melissa said.
"That was your family?!"
"Heh... calling me 'you.' Claiming me as your woman like that... I'm actually kind of blushing."
"That’s not what I meant! Not that kind of 'you'!"
"Regardless," Veronica continued, "we need a base. And we shall have one. Kah-kah-kah-kah! Lord Groom, isn't this exciting?!"
"There is nothing fun about this!"
"Oh, nonsense. As long as we have you... if you just play the part of the Marquis House Liberator and kick some giant monsters around, you’ll automatically become the head of the house."
"Is it just my imagination, or is this a total villain move? Tell me I'm just imagining things."
"Lord Groom... if you are a man, surely you have dreamed of it at least once? The dream of standing at the very pinnacle of this nation!"
I hate this girl! In all the chaos, she’s trying to conquer the galaxy!
I can't wait for the actual protagonist to show up anymore! I have to stop her! But how...?
If I just keep slaughtering the Zork and restore peace...
Fine. I’ll do it. I have to! Once I take over my family’s house, I’ll find the real protagonist and train them myself. Then, I’ll pass the baton and retire!
That’s the plan! I’ll just become the Advice Big Brother who stands on top of utility poles and trees to give cryptic guidance!
I’d hate to see my wife ruined, and I’d certainly hate to be ruined myself. One way or another, I was going home.