I went to the docking station with the usual crew to welcome our guest.
The man who appeared was Baron Ohno—the "Wild Old Man" himself.
And the first thing he did was offer me his daughter as a wife.
"Um... I’m Kyoko. I look forward to working with you... Lord Husband?"
Wifey... back me up here.
"I am his first wife, Veronica! A pleasure to meet you!"
I nearly did a face-plant right then and there.
"Wait, no! This is the part where you’re supposed to turn him down!"
"As long as I am your first and last woman, it doesn't matter to me," Veronica replied casually. "Marriage diplomacy is the bread and butter of the nobility. I won’t turn away anyone who wants to join us."
"What about love?! Is there no love in this?!"
"It’s because I love you that I’m optimizing my Lord Groom’s path to success. You should be happy."
Ugh...
My infamy was taking on a life of its own. Who the hell was calling me the "Worst NTR Weapon in the Galaxy"?!
"Gahahahahaha! You lot are hilarious!"
Baron Ohno laughed, clearly enjoying the spectacle. He was definitely one of "us."
The people who ended up at places like the Imperial Officer Academy were rarely firstborn sons, even in distinguished families. In this world, inheritance followed a strict system of headship succession where the heir took everything. In exchange, the child who inherited the head of the house was required to support their siblings.
If you were a man, you either became a retainer for your older brother or found a job in the Imperial Capital. If you were a woman, you were married off. Therefore, it was the destiny of the youngest children to be sent to places like the Officer Academy. If the youngest happened to be academically gifted, they’d aim for a preparatory school for a top-tier university instead.
In other words, most people at the academy were effectively commoners, regardless of their noble blood. Ohno’s easygoing nature confirmed he was our kind of person. He was likely an academy graduate himself.
"Oh, looks like you caught on," Ohno said. "I’m an academy grad. I didn't make it to the university course, though."
"Um... if you don't mind me asking, why not?"
The academy provided a salary, so people rarely quit unless something extreme happened. There usually wasn't anywhere else for them to go.
"My older brothers died from an endemic disease. They were undergoing Chlorella Treatment, but I guess their bodies were too weak. They couldn't even manage a Clone Treatment."
If someone died from a disease with an unknown cause, the law forbade cloning them. There was too much risk of the clone being restored in an infected state—especially with parasites that could turn people into zombies. Several planets had been completely wiped out that way in the past.
"I’m sorry to hear that."
"Hahaha! Don’t worry about it. That was over ten years ago."
Ohno laughed it off.
That meant Baron Ohno was an enhanced human who had undergone Chlorella Treatment—or more accurately, a similar procedure involving microorganisms. It was a common necessity on planets where the environment was hostile to human life. It allowed the body to synthesize protein using only sunlight, or provided protection from extreme ultraviolet rays. Different microbial "recipes" yielded various effects.
However, prejudice against the procedure remained deep-seated; it wasn't seen as a "respectable" thing to do. I suspected that bias ultimately stemmed from the Jester.
Ohno introduced the officers he’d brought with him—representatives of the colonists, the laborers, and so on.
"I am Jean, representing the Shiramber Baron Territory," one woman said.
A representative of the Shiramber Territory? Not the Baron himself?
"The Baron of Shiramber fell in battle," Ohno provided the explanation.
"Thanks for the assist, Ohno-san," a man with a scarred face said next. He looked like a career soldier. "I am Celeste, representing the Caron Baron Territory."
So the Baron there had died in the line of duty too. Considering the chaos of the raid on the Imperial Capital, the local lords' families had likely been wiped out in the initial strikes.
"Ohno-san, what’s the plan here?" Jean asked.
"Whatever happens, happens."
"What’s the status of your forces, Ohno-san?" I asked.
"Well, they’re mostly fishermen and delivery drivers. They can barely pilot a battleship. They aren't much for ground combat, but almost all of them have licenses for Humanoid Heavy Machinery. Give 'em a steel beam and they can hold their own against the crabs. We don't have any Humanoid Fighter pilots, though."
"...Major Piggett. Please set up training sessions in the simulators."
"Understood," the Major replied.
I had the regular soldiers and Edge training on the Humanoid Fighter sims already. Adding a few more people wouldn't be an issue.
"So, where are we heading?" Ohno asked. "Just so you know, I was kicked out of Prince Thomas’s camp. Screw those damn nobles!"
"You’re a noble too!" I blurted out.
I couldn't help but retort. With that attitude, I could see why he’d been purged from Thomas’s army, which was run by stuffy civil officials.
"Leo, you get it, right?"
"I get it, but still...!"
I was technically from a Marquis House, but my sensibilities were those of a commoner. Anyway, back to business.
"We’re going to start liberating the planets in this star zone. Priority is based on distance—we start with the closest one. If a strategic necessity pops up elsewhere, we'll pivot."
"That’s even less of a plan than I expected."
"We don't know where the Zork nodes giving the orders are," I explained. "And the Zork themselves don't seem interested in playing a game of wits with us."
It was the only way we could move forward. That said, most of the students from the Officer Academy were from the Imperial Capital. The rest were from the regions Thomas was currently heading toward. Only a few, like Kevin, came from sectors where the Zork presence was light. A lot of the crew felt a sense of relief.
I didn't think we’d be wiped out before reaching Planet Sanctuary... at least, I hoped not.
After leaving the "wife issue" in a state of vague uncertainty, I parted ways with Baron Ohno. Our target was the planets currently under Zork assault.
I sat down with Ren to review the reconnaissance drone footage. The closest target was Planet Shiramber, the territory of the late Baron. None of the students in our group were from there. Normally, the military would have just glassed the planet on the assumption that the population was already dead, but a distress signal had been detected.
We sent the drones in for a closer look.
Planet Shiramber was a world of sand. In the summer, daytime temperatures hit nearly 50°C before plummeting to 5°C at night. In the winter, it swung between 20°C and -5°C. Without the climate control of a combat suit, a human wouldn't last long.
The local fauna was just as lethal. Poisonous scorpions and toxic plants were the baseline. Giant lugworms the size of skyscrapers tunneled through the dunes, swallowing everything in their path, while massive stingray-types of equal scale "swam" through the sand. There were even rumors of sand-whales the size of islands.
...Seriously, isn't any fish over a certain size just inherently terrifying?
The mortality rate on Shiramber was famously high. It made sense that it was a planet where genetic modification was a prerequisite for survival. It was a brutal place—several levels worse than Edge's home world.
I’d expected them to be holed up in a subway system or something similar, but there wasn't a single train line on the planet. Instead, they were using tunnels.
"Lord Husband. There appears to be a quarry nearby."
Ren... being called "Lord Husband" by her gave me a strange sense of illicit thrill. It was becoming a habit.
The quarry was a massive facility.
"Rescue signal confirmed. It's coming from inside the quarry."
"Roger that."
Well then. A planet where the environment itself was trying its hardest to kill us. I wondered how we should go about conquering this one.