Today, I was back to helping with the dismantling of the destroyer.
You’re probably thinking, "Wait, what happened to your duties as a Senior Officer?"
Well, you see, there are three categories: "work I’m actually capable of doing," "work I can muddle through with the Fairy’s help," and "work where leaving it to me is a fundamental error of judgment because my knowledge is hopelessly lacking."
Diplomacy, in particular, isn't something you can handle just by skimming the briefing materials.
That’s why I’m exempt from the high-level tasks that push the limits of even a Civil Official who graduated at the top of their class from the best Imperial University.
After all, once a Civil Official reaches that level, they usually spend years in graduate school at the state's expense after joining a ministry.
I didn't even learn about those circumstances until after I became a Field-grade Officer!
Do you really think a muscle-brained soldier could ever reach the minimum standard of an Academic Athlete who spent their time studying until they were nearly thirty?
In that sense, I’m just like a politician!
...Actually, I should stop with the mysterious noblewoman act. It doesn’t suit my character.
Anyway, the only thing I can really do is have them prepare the documents and then sign off on the final decisions.
I’m the one who makes the calls and takes the responsibility, but the heavy lifting of drafting those materials falls to the Civil Officials.
I-it’s not like I’m incompetent or anything!
Normally, I’d be just about to start my third year at the academy! I’ve only received enough education to barely function as a squad leader!
Besides, this humble one is much better suited for this kind of work, de gozaru.
Today's task was helping with Particle Collection.
It’s a job where you drift around in an Extravehicular Work Suit with full-body protection, vacuuming up floating debris or manually sweeping it up with a broom and dustpan.
Since the Gravity Device was functional, the work went by quickly.
Apparently, this is a critical task. They analyze every speck, even the stuff that looks like mere dust.
They are incredibly persistent.
They’ll take a single splinter of wood and analyze it to determine the exact climate and species of the plant it came from.
There’s even a chance it’s not a plant at all.
This long-pile carpet—the kind of cheap-looking thing you’d expect to find in a hostess's apartment—might be made of fibers that don't even exist in the Empire.
They send everything for exhaustive analysis.
By noon, we had finished clearing out the interior, and in the afternoon, the team moved on to the exterior plating and wiring.
I sat that part out.
Experts carefully dismantled those sections while documenting everything with photos.
Well, obviously. The technical specs are far more important than the interior decor.
I headed back to the Dining Hall, where the Fairy suddenly appeared.
"The translation app for the Ogre God Nation, the Proone, the wolves, and the tortoises is finally finished!"
"That seemed like a tough one. You even seemed to be struggling a bit, which is rare for a Fairy."
"The data was just too sparse. The Proone Holy Scripture, in particular, was so incoherent it actually got in the way of the analysis. Also, the translated documents from the Ogre God Nation contained many 'intentional' errors."
"Thanks for the hard work. They’re probably desperate to look good, so I guess that can’t be helped. Even I would try to make the other guys look like the villains if I were in their shoes."
"True. But the errors aren't quite egregious enough to warrant a formal protest. It’s more like they’re using their discretion to speak as ill of others as possible. I suppose it’s just their culture. At any rate, you won't need to ask for manual translations anymore."
"Actually, I still want them."
"Huh?"
"I plan to compare the two versions to read between the lines of what’s going on inside the Ogre God Nation."
"You’ve got a lot of nerve."
"Even with a Friendly Nation, constant analysis is a necessity."
Apparently, this kind of thing is required.
I’m just repeating what the bigwigs told me, though.
Next, we moved on to the Hostile Nation.
"How about the Proone?"
"As usual, they're obsessed with a brand of Propaganda that no one else can understand. Things like: 'Why do you not choose to be forgiven for your sins and become meat?!'"
"...Hey, Fairy. Can I tell you a theory that just popped into my head?"
"What is it? I have nothing but a bad feeling about this."
"Is it possible the Proone are actually... delicious? I mean, they’re basically shellfish, right? And they’re strangely obsessed with the concept of meat. Do you think they used to be a prey species?"
"...Ahahaha... Please, stop it... Ahahaha... Sending that to the research lab as the official opinion of Leo Kamishiro."
Hey, it’s not like I’m going to eat them.
It’s just that they’re so persistent about it. Their rhetoric started to sound like it was coming from the perspective of something that's used to being eaten.
I wouldn't touch them because they're gross, though.
I don't have the slightest interest in them as ingredients, but I’m worried that the Proone's behavior might be driven by deep-seated terror.
If they’re motivated by fear, they’ll be easy to manipulate. Total cakewalk.
Proone-chan... the Galactic Empire is really damn good at that kind of Psychological Warfare, you know.
I struck a sharp pose in my expensive tracksuit.
"Wow... Leo-kun, for someone so young, you sure are a master of the dirty game!"
"Fairy... I think the number of times I’ve nearly died on the battlefield is top-class for my age."
"W-well, I suppose that’s true."
"If it’s the difference between living and dying, don't you think I'd use every tool at my disposal?"
"...Yeah, you’re right. You poor thing."
Drop the pity, please.
Zork is the one at fault here.
After that, for some reason, my report was taken incredibly seriously.
Even the scientific departments were discussing it with absolute gravity.
I didn't tell them to eat the guys! I just meant, "Their reactions are probably because they're terrified of being eaten!" That was it!
And then, a conclusion was reached.
I was summoned to Wifey’s office.
"Their behavior does indeed stem from a fear of being consumed. Lord Groom, the Imperial University has reached its verdict."
"Why is my random whim becoming such a big deal?"
It was literally just a passing thought!
Wifey, who was dressed for Waso Day, smiled serenely. She was cute.
Apparently, our fashion choices are under the spotlight right now. I don’t even have a moment to slip into my Officer Academy Tracksuit...
"Lord Groom's intuition is unnervingly accurate!"
"Uh... okay. So, what exactly are they?"
"They were originally a species of Large Land Shellfish. On their home planet, they were apparently preyed upon by every animal imaginable. They only gained intelligence through the intervention of something from deep space. It is speculated... to be the same force as Zork."
"Wait, so there’s some kind of god-like entity?"
"The definition of a god is a matter of debate. At the very least, it is a Higher Existence. That is, if it truly exists. It is certainly something they perceive as such."
So there’s a monster out there...
Give me a break.
"The strongest ESP user and a self-proclaimed Higher Existence. It makes one's blood boil with excitement."
"Waaaaah! I feel like I’m going to die!"
"Nothing has been decided regarding a confrontation yet! For now, we shall focus on our preparations to face the Proone!"
Uwah. Understood.
Even though they turned out to have the backstory of a victim species, I just can’t bring myself to sympathize with them.
I suppose that, in itself, is the Proone’s greatest talent.