We arrived at the next planet.
It was the one Ayame had specified.
It didn't even have a name.
There was no atmosphere, and the probability of it being habitable for humans was exactly zero. A base was visible on the surface, making it likely a resource-mining world.
I couldn't be certain because there was simply no data. We were at the point where we didn't even know who the owner was.
"It looks like a viscount from this sector owned it about five hundred years ago," the Fairy explained, though she sounded hesitant.
"Then isn't that viscount the owner?"
"The house is already extinct. There are no trial records, so it likely died out for lack of an heir. The planets and assets they held were divided among about two hundred neighboring houses, and half of those houses have since gone extinct themselves."
"That's... beyond grim."
"It’s a common enough story in the Empire, though," she continued. "Commoners in the Imperial Capital are far wealthier than low-ranking lords. They probably sent their children to a university in the Capital and then disinherited them just to let them escape back there."
"I feel like the system itself is dead..."
"The system died the moment people lost the drive to reach for outer space."
Brutal. Since a member of the Imperial Family was the one saying it, the scale of that brutality felt different.
While I was joking around with the Fairy, a communication came in from Claire.
"Leo, landing permission has been granted."
"Any enemy signatures?"
"None. But Zork are good at hiding. They might be lurking underground."
Of course they were. I’d been hit by that tactic so many times I was used to it, yet no device had been developed to detect them yet.
"Kevin. What's the status of the drones?"
I contacted Kevin next. While she was usually found in her standard position as a Nurse, she was actually the captain of the drone operator group. Kevin was the only specialist who could control a swarm of Spider Drones in real-time.
"Yeah, the inside of the building is empty... no, wait, I think there’s a signature in the back. I’m going in... Ah!"
"What happened?"
"Veronica-chan! Search concluded!" Wifey’s voice cut in.
"Kevin, what is it?!"
"We didn't make it! Everyone's dead! They're already mummified!"
I see... that was a shame. You can't save everyone. I had to accept that reality.
Wait. Mummified? Even under ideal conditions, that should take at least three months. When I was asked to save them... that was a month ago—no, even more recently than that. Were they already dead when she asked me?
"The tissue samples indicate they've been dead for over two years," Wifey said. "I do not understand the enemy's intent... Luna, can I ask you to handle this?"
"Oka~y."
I sent a message to one of the Despairs I hadn't contacted yet. I encrypted it and attached the photos. I also added a note about the Republic citizens we had taken in—not personal info, just the number of people and a few of their home regions. Since we were in deep space, the names were all unfamiliar to me, but I hoped they’d understand.
No reply came. If they were caught, they'd be killed. For all I knew, this was a trap. Both we and the Despair were taking a gamble.
Melissa joined the conversation while I was lost in thought.
"Is there a chance Ayame set us up?"
"I cannot say for certain. Suspend the search for now! Humanoid Fighter units, standby in the Sortie Sector."
"Ugh, the Dining Hall over here doesn't have a kitchen. It's nothing but frozen food," Melissa complained.
It was true. Unlike the usual Living Sector, the standby area in the Sortie Sector only had vending machines for frozen meals and drinks.
"At least they gave us showers. I'm drenched! I want to get clean, fast!"
Melissa didn't seem to mind the food as long as there was water. I figured I'd take a shower too. I'd predicted a potential trap—even accounting for poison gas—so I’d been wearing a Combat Suit designed for gas and radiation. It was incredibly stuffy.
I downed some water as I climbed out of my Humanoid Fighter. I grabbed my Officer Academy Tracksuit from my locker and headed for the Shower Room. In the Dressing Room/Cleaning Room, I tossed the suit into the Optical Washer for sterilization and cleaning. After showering, I changed into my usual tracksuit and waited in the Dining Hall.
The War Journalist snapped a few photos of me, but I didn't care. For some reason, the sight of us in our Officer Academy Tracksuits was strangely popular. Apparently, the "they should have just been students" angle really resonated with people. When the camera pointed my way, I reflexively struck a pose.
"By the way, Major, did something happen?"
"If I leak anything, I'll get in trouble, so I’m exercising my right to remain silent."
"Well, I'm just asking as part of my job~"
I didn't understand Ayame's aim. I knew we shouldn't make a scene yet. It didn't seem like she wanted to sap my motivation, but I couldn't tell if it was a trap. At first, I wondered if they’d been mummified by a Spider-type New Model Zork sucking out their fluids, but that didn't seem to be it. I just didn't get it. Why ask me to save them? They were already long dead at that point.
Melissa walked over. "Yo!"
"Hey, hey."
Claire and the others arrived too. We sat around chatting to pass the time. After about thirty minutes, the cleaning was done.
"I’m gonna go grab my gear."
I went to get my Combat Suit alone. Wifey was likely in a meeting. This could take hours. Most military operations were just long stretches of waiting. It was part of the job, but it was surprisingly draining.
I went back to the Dining Hall, drank more water, and shot the breeze with Claire and the others. Just as we ran out of things to talk about, Wifey’s voice came over the Internal Broadcast.
"Attention. Regarding the Republic Citizen Rescue Operation, it is hereby suspended. No survivors were found. The remains discovered have been dead for over two years. All units are to remain on standby."
Even Wifey couldn't figure out Ayame's plan. If it were a trap, I expected a battleship-class self-destruct to go off while we were waiting. The Zork were definitely capable of that. But if I were the one setting a trap, I would have left actual survivors to slow the rescue down. Wifey surely realized that too.
Had she intentionally created a situation where we couldn't easily move? Did the Zork understand human nature that well? They were usually too rational for such indirect schemes. I decided to stop thinking about it. Usually, when that option occurred to me, it meant things weren't immediately dangerous.
"I'm home~"
"Welcome back~"
When I returned to the room, Wifey was there.
"Did you decide on anything?"
"I have ordered a full investigation. We may learn something yet."
"Is there a chance they're just making us waste time?"
"I doubt it. Buying time won't help the Zork—they are already at a disadvantage. That is why I cannot fathom their intent."
I didn't get it either. It was a nagging, unsettled feeling. But right as my frustration was peaking, a reply to the message I’d sent the Despair finally arrived.