Legend of Galactic Heroes Vol 2 Chapter 1

Chapter One      Before the Storm       I               Billions of stars gave off billions of lights, but their power was weak. The vast majority of the boundless void was dominated by darkness that resembled polished obsidian.               Endless night. Boundless void. Unimaginable coldness. They did not reject mankind. Mankind was simply ignored. Although the universe was vast, it was not vast for men. That was because it was not meaningful for mankind to explore outside the range that was within their capacity to recognize and travel.  

            Men tediously sectioned  the universe into inhabitable zones and uninhabitable zones, and navigable areas and non-navigable areas. Furthermore, the most incorrigible human beings: the professional s.p.a.cemen, further divided all the s.p.a.ce and the stars as: regions dominated by the enemy and regions dominated by allies; areas to rob and areas to protect; or areas that were difficult to attack areas and areas that were easy to attack.                Originally, these things did not have names. After the tiny humans distinguished things in the area they could recognize, the humans called these things by their own symbols.               There was a sector that was called the Iserlohn Corridor. Through the danger zone of the Milky Way, there was a thin elongated tunnel of safe zone.               There, a battleship sailed. Under the G0-type spectral stellar light, the streamlined hull glowed in silver-gray. The engraved ship name, Ulysses, was probably also shining brightly.               Ulysses (ユリシーズ). The battleship, named after a legendary ancient hero, belonged to the Free Planets Alliance s.p.a.ce Fleet, Iserlohn Fortress Garrison Fleet (イゼルローン要塞駐留艦隊).               Half a year ago, Ulysses belonged to the Alliance 8th Fleet. That fleet partic.i.p.ated in the battle that took place in Amritsar, the largest battle in history, and ninety percent of the officers, men, and vessels were lost forever. Along with them, the fleet itself was obliterated. The handful of survivors were relocated to other fleets and bases.               Ulysses was supposed to be a battle-hardened hero who survived from the midst of mortal combats. The ship was this way, and so was its crew.               However, in practice, the name “Battleship Ulysses” was more in the category of an unmalicious joke than a subject of respect.               The damage Ulysses received during the Battle of Amritsar was minor. Only the microorganism utilizing drainage system was destroyed. Because of that, the crew had to continue to fight the battle with their feet soaked in sewage backflow…               What was waiting for Ulysses upon its return was utterly disappointing. It was dubbed “the broken toilet battleship.” In an expressionless tone, they were told, “Thank you for your hard work.” The ship’s commanding officer, Commander Nilsson (ニルソン), and the first officer, Lieutenant Commander Eda (エダ), both felt rotten, but when faced with the shocking defeat of losing seventy percent of the 30-million s.p.a.cemen that went on the expedition, people may not have been able to maintain the equilibrium of their reason. Even so, the crew did not feel comforted in the slightest…               Now, back in the Iserlohn Fortress, Ulysses was carrying out patrol duties. While this was also to serve as crew training, enormous manmade dangers worse than the variable stars, red giants, and abnormal gravitational fields that filled the sector awaited them.               The Free Planets Alliance’s territory ended around the area surrounding Iserlohn. The frontier territory of the Galactic Empire stretched out beyond the Alliance’s territory. In the past, time after time it became the place for large-scale battles. Occasionally, debris from s.p.a.ceships that were destroyed centuries ago could be found.               The captain, Commander Nilsson, lifted his ma.s.sive body from the command seat. The communications officer had reported that they discovered an unidentified ship. The reconnaissance system on Ulysses was the same as the ones on other ships, which was comprised of radar, ma.s.s meter, energy metering devices, and forward reconnaissance satellite groups. All of the above reacted. Rather than being a fleet, it was only one ship.               “Currently, in this sector, there are probably no allied ships.”               “Yes. Currently, there is not even one allied ship in this sector.”               “Then, by simple process of elimination, it is an enemy ship. All crew, engage in level 1 battle readiness!”               The alarm sounded, and the amount of adrenaline secreted by the 140 crewmembers rapidly increased. A flurry of voices came out of each department: “Enemy distance, 33 light-seconds,” “Magnetic cannon (磁力砲) shows no abnormality,” “Heat cannon (熱 線 砲) is ready,” “Screen brightness (入光量) is regulated.” In a conspicuous voice, the ship’s captain ordered that a common signal be sent out.               “Stop your ship, or we will open fire.”               The crew broke out in nervous, cold sweat. Five minutes later, a reply was received. The communications officer who received the message c.o.c.ked his head to one side as he handed the plate over to the captain. The message on it was as follows:               “We do not wish to fight. We wish to engage in a diplomatic meeting.”               “Diplomatic meeting?” Captain Nilsson muttered to himself.   Vice-captain Eda folded his arms. “To be at a place like this, I wonder if he is a long-time exile.”               “Hmm, we will scrutinize later. We have not cancelled battle-readiness. Tell them to stop the engine and open the communications screen,” Captain Nilsson took off his black beret with a dyed white five-point-star, and looked up. If the two sides could avoid killing each other, then no one would get hurt, because even if they win, they would not be able to manage it with no sacrifices. Something came up on the screen, and it was a battleship that resembled the Ulysses. The captain wondered, “Are the men in that ship also breaking out in nervous sweats?”                   Iserlohn was an artificial planet located on the border of the Galactic Empire and the Free Planets Alliance that rotated around the Altena (アルテナ) star. It was positioned at the heart of the so-called “Iserlohn Corridor.” Without pa.s.sing through here, it would be impossible to invade each other’s territories with a fleet.               The artificial planet that was constructed by the Empire and seized by the Alliance was 60 kilometers in diameter, and the interior was segmented into thousands of levels. The surface was coated with beam-resistant mirror-coating, and constructed out of a composite armor made out of carbide steel, crystal fiber, and super-ceramic. It was said that there were four rigorous layers of the composite armor.               It was well equipped to function as a strategic base: attack, defense, supply, rest and recuperation, maintenance and preparation, medical, communication, control, information… The s.p.a.ceport could accommodate 20,000 ships, and the maintenance shop could repair 400 ships concurrently. The hospital was equipped with 200,000 beds. The a.r.s.enal could produce 7,500 laser fusion missiles an hour.               Including the fortress personnel and the garrison fleet personnel, over two million military personnel and three million civilians reside on the planet. Although the majority of the population was comprised of the families of the officers and men, there were also people who were entrusted by the military to manage the lifestyle and entertainment facilities. Among them, there were also stores that catered to women only.               Iserlohn was a fortress, and at the same time, it was also a metropolis with five million people. There were numerous manned planets with smaller populations than this. It was also well equipped with social infrastructure. In addition to schools, it had theaters; concert halls; a fifteen-story sports center; maternity hospitals; nurseries; an enclosed water supply and drainage system; a desalination plant that also served as a hydrogen power plant; as a part of the oxygen supply system, a large botanical garden that served as the location for forest therapy; and the primary source for vegetable protein and vitamins, the hydroponic farming facility.               The man who served as the fortress commander and the Garrison Fleet commander, the chief executive for this enormous s.p.a.ce-city, and the commander of the officers and men, was the Free Planets Alliance admiral, Yang Wen-li.                       II               To think of Yang Wen-li as a leading Very Important Person (VIP) in the Alliance Fleet was difficult for most human beings. To begin with, even when he was wearing his military uniform, he did not look like a military man.               He was not an old gentleman who had correct posture, and always exercised prudence, nor was he a large burly man with thick muscles. He was not the cold scholarly type, nor was he the young, pale, n.o.bleman type.               Although he just turned thirty years old, he appeared to be about two to three years younger. He had black hair, black eyes, and a medium build. It could be said that he was handsome, but one could not claim that his looks were exceptional.               What was extraordinary about him was inside his skull, rather than outside. Last year, in 796 UC, he monopolized the military success of the Free Planets Alliance. Without shedding even one drop of Alliance blood, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the so-called impregnable Iserlohn Fortress from the hands of the Imperial Fleet. At the Astarte Starzone and the Amritsar Starzone, the Alliance Fleet was vanquished by Fleet Admiral Reinhard von Lohengramm of the Imperial Fleet. What saved the Alliance Fleet from annihilation was Yang’s equanimity and ingenious operational command.               If it were not for him, then the 796 UC combat record for the Alliance Fleet would probably need only one word: “defeated.” That was recognized by millions of people. Because of that, within the span of one year, Yang was promoted from commodore to admiral. The young admiral with the unprecedented career, however, did not shed even one tear of grat.i.tude. Despite being an unparalleled maestro of war, Yang had not discovered any value to this thing called “war.”               He had considered resigning from the military to become an ordinary citizen, but that wish had not been fulfilled as of yet.               That day, he was playing three-dimensional chess in his private room.               “Checkmate!” cried Julian Mintz.               Yang ruffled his black hair, and admitted defeat. Apparently he could not be considered a great commander at three-dimensional chess.               “Good grief. Is this the seventeenth consecutive loss?”           Yang said, not out of vexation but out of resignation.               “This is actually the eighteenth consecutive loss.” Laughing, Julian corrected him. Julian was still in the midst of his adolescence, and was only half as old as Yang. He had flaxen hair with gentle, natural waves, and dark brown eyes. Most people found him to be the owner of great looks.               Due to the implementation of the so-called “Traverse Act,” where children of war dead were sent to be reared in the homes of military personnel, Julian was sent to Yang’s home three years ago. Julian was an honors student at school; he became the annual top scorer in the sport of flying ball; and after he became an able-s.p.a.ceman-equivalent civilian employee, he demonstrated outstanding shooting talent. Although, as the guardian, Yang was a little embarra.s.sed for himself, he was very proud of Julian.               “Julian’s only fault is that he worships Yang,” Yang’s officer school senior with the invective tongue, Alex Cazerne, commented, “Tsk, what poor taste. If it were not for that, I would be okay with him marrying my daughter.”               Incidentally, the 36-year-old Cazerne had two daughters, and the older of the two sisters was seven years old…               “Let’s play another round,” Yang challenged again, without learning his lesson.               “Is it okay to lose nineteen consecutive times? It is fine with me, but…”               Although Yang was the one who taught Julian three-dimensional chess, the disciple did not take even half a year to overtake the master. Thereafter, the gap between their skill level widened. However, when Julian suggested that he was the better player, he meant it as a joke. Not only in chess, but in other things as well, Julian felt that he fell far short of Yang in terms of fundamental things.               A cheery chime rang.               “Commander, this is Lieutenant Greenhill,” the beautiful female lieutenant with golden brown hair and hazel eyes said from the video phone. She had been serving as Yang’s adjutant since last year.               “I am busy right now. What is it?” Yang’s tone was woefully unenthusiastic.               “An Imperial battleship came as a messenger. They said they want to meet the commander and they have serious business.”               “I see.”               It came as no surprise. However, as might be expected, Yang interrupted his chess game and stood up. With his gun still on his desk, Yang left the room. Julian called after him:               “Sir, you forgot your gun.”               “No need; no need.”               The young admiral shook his hands c.u.mbersomely.               “But going empty handed…”               “If I have a gun, and I fire it, do you think I will hit the target?”               “… No.”               “Then, there is no use in bringing it.”               Yang walked quickly, and Julian ran after him in a hurry.               Yang was not being bold. Instead, he was simply a.s.sessing each human being’s capability realistically. No one could imagine that his mind games alone would be able to unceremoniously cause the impregnable Iserlohn to fall. That was why we know that when it came to humans, nothing was absolute.               He who originally wanted to become a historian instead of joining the military had learned that however mighty a nation was, it would eventually face ruins, and that a great hero would become corrupt once he obtained power.               The same held true for life. Many warriors survived the battlefields, only to succ.u.mb common cold. Often, people who survived the blood baths of power struggles died at the hands of a.s.sa.s.sins. In the past, the Galactic Empire KaiserOtfried III (オトフリート三世) avoided meals in fear of being poisoned, and pa.s.sed away from debility.               “Even if you use caution, bad things will still happen.”               Yang did not bring escorts. When he first arrived at his post in Iserlohn, twelve escorts were attached to him in four rotations. They followed him even when he was using the restroom, so he quietly dismissed them.               At the same time, Yang paid attention to the operation of the security system in the fortress. The control system was separated into three areas that cross-monitored each other. As long as the three areas were not overwhelmed concurrently, the function of the fortress could not be seized. Additionally, he installed atmospheric composition a.n.a.lyzers in the central-air system so that poison gas could not be dispersed in the fortress.               Although this was not Yang’s intention, to the nagging military higher-ups, the worried subordinates, the bureaucrats who were worried about absorbing the budgets, the politicians who favored inspections, and the journalists who were eager for the fray, these security precautions were thorough, and they had to be publicized for public relations purposes.               “It seems that as people’s positions rise, their thought processes gradually become impure,” Yang complained to Julian.               “If you understand yourself, then you won’t be sucked in by them. As long as unnecessary trouble don’t occur, it is good, right?” Julian replied in a grown-up tone, and added his opinion.               “Aside from that, when your position rises, the amount you drink also increases. That is what I am worried about. Please control yourself a little.”               “Has it increased by a lot?”               “It is at least five times what it was of three years ago.”               “Five times? Is it that much?”               Julian pulled out the household expense data over the last three years in front of Yang. The spending index for alcoholic beverages was 491, when it was 100 three years ago. Because what Yang drank outside of the house was not recorded in the index, Julian’s a.s.sertion that Yang was drinking at least five times the amount three years ago had some basis.               Julian’s data choked off Yang’s argument, and Yang promised to limit the amount of alcohol he drank. However, to what extent would he keep his promise? Neither the person who made the promise nor the person who received the promise had much confidence…                   Two hours later, Yang gathered all of the officers in the conference room.               When the Imperial Fleet controlled the fortress, this was the place where the fortress commander and the garrison fleet commander held their discussions, but they normally ended their discussions by fighting from opposite corners of the room, so this was a room with that kind of history.                   Fortress Administrator (要塞事務監), Rear Admiral Alex Cazerne (アレックス・キャゼルヌ少将).   Fortress Defense Commander (要塞防御指揮官), Commodore Walter von Schönkopf (ワルター・フォン・シェーンコップ准将).   Fleet Deputy Commander (艦隊副司令官), Rear Admiral Fischer (フィッシャー少将).   Chief-of-Staff (参謀長), Rear Admiral Murai (ムライ少将).   Deputy Chief-of-Staff (副参謀長), Commodore Patrichev (パトリチェフ准将).   General Staff Officer (参謀), Captain Bradshaw (ブラッドショー大佐) and Commander Lao (ラオ中佐). (Note: The book printed ブラッドジョー, which is Bradjole, an obscure English town back in the late 12th century. I have to believe that that is a misprint, and that Tanaka intended to write ブラッドショー, for the more common last name, Bradshaw, instead.)   Senior Adjutant (高級副官), Lieutenant Frederica Greenhill (フレデリカ・グリーンヒル大尉).   Also, battleship Ulysses’s (ユリシーズ) captain (艦長), Commander Nilsson (ニルソン中佐), and vice-captain (副長), Commander Eda (エダ中佐).   Yang looked over the faces of the gathered officers, and began to speak. It was not his style to speak in a ponderous tone, so instead he spoke as if he was chatting with friends over a drink.   “As you already know, the Imperial battleship Brocken (ブロッケン) is a messenger envoy with an interesting message. It was said that they wish to have the Empire and the Alliance exchange the over two-million prisoners they are both holding.”   “It is because it is hard to feed those people for each other,” Rear Admiral Cazerne responded sarcastically. He was a medium height man with healthy muscle tone. More so than being a bureaucrat, he was a military man, and his experience working in logistics was more extensive than his experience on the front line. Being the master of desk jobs, he was an expert in supply, organizational operation, and facilities management. When they were decimated at Amritsar, he was made to accept an insane amount of responsibilities over the supply plan. (Even though they lost due to Imperial Fleet Admiral Lohengramm’s clever ploy.) Although he had been temporarily relegated, he was rea.s.signed to Iserlohn at Yang’s request.   It could be said that Cazerne was the de facto mayor of this five-million-people metropolis, Iserlohn. His administrative capabilities were probably also useful in working with this gigantic and complex organization.   “That is probably part of the consideration. Well, I am responsible for half of it.”   When Iserlohn fell, the population of prisoners Yang took captive was comparable to that of a metropolis.   Commodore Schönkopf laughed. The thirty-three-year-old Schönkopf had a sophisticated appearance, and he was a key figure in the successful implementation of Yang’s strategy. Aristocrat at birth, as a toddler, he and his grandparents were exiled from the Empire to the Alliance. He was sufficiently equipped with both courage and smarts, and his fearless personality was sometimes considered dangerous. When it came to himself, even if people doubted him or glared at him, he was able to remain unperturbed.   “However, as a matter of fact, this is no laughing matter. The words, ‘It is hard to feed them,’ have important implications. I suspect this is regarding a situation that is not far from feeding the prisoners.”   “What do you mean?”   “I mean, this can be seen as Marquis Reinhard von Lohengramm cementing his resolve to launch an armed conflict with the n.o.bility coalition.”   When the name of the young blond man who was the biggest threat to the Alliance Fleet came out of Yang’s mouth, the room fell dead silent.       Over the last few months, Yang had been thinking. He had been thinking about how he would deal with Marquis Reinhard von Lohengramm, who had been approaching the seat of supremacy in the Galactic Empire.   In order for Reinhard to obtain absolute power, he must overthrow the powerful group of n.o.bles who were hostile towards him. Perhaps a large-scale civil war would occur. Although the information Yang obtained was by no means abundant, it was clear that Reinhard was steadily working towards those preparations.   The problem was that Reinhard’s strategic moves were not just in the Empire. In this case, they extended into the Free Planets Alliance. If the n.o.bility coalition were to join hands with the Alliance, the Alliance could attack when Reinhard and the n.o.bility coalition were battle weary. For Reinhard, that would be unbearable. The Alliance Fleet had not recovered from the wounds resulted from Amritsar’s defeat, and they could not afford another expedition. However, Reinhard would want to take all possible safety measures.   So, what will he do?   Yang tried to a.n.a.lyze Reinhard’s situation. For him, there was such a thing called the minimum requirement, and he would plan his strategic moves along it.   The organized results of his a.n.a.lysis were as following:   1.      Reinhard must devote all of his forces to combat the n.o.bility coalition. 2.     Consequently, a two-front war would be impossible. 3.     Due to conditions one and two, he should use plots instead of armed forces to deal with the Alliance. 4.     The essence of the plot must be to divide the enemy and cause conflicts among them.   After going through these few steps, Yang was able to peer into Reinhard’s plan.   To divide the Alliance Fleet from within!   Reinhard was going to do that. He had no choice but to do that. If Yang was in Reinhard’s position, he probably would not be able to think up other plans either. If the Alliance Fleet was shooting at each other, then he would not have to worry about being attacked from his rear, and he would be able to fight the n.o.bles.    So, what would be the specifics of the plan? – Yang thought hard, and reached a conclusion.   ‘Perhaps I worry too much,’ Yang thought. Yang was not as confident as others thought he was.   However, it was not as if the work he was engaged in was the pursuit of truth and humanity. He could not require absolutes. Victory. Defeat. Compet.i.tion. Those were merely relative to one another. To be one step ahead of one’s opponent was to be one move better than one’s opponent. That was easy to say, but to have one superior move ahead of a genius like Marquis Reinhard von Lohengramm was an onerous task.   For Yang, here lay some of his regrets.   During last year’s Battle of Amritsar, although the amount of fighting Yang did on the battlefield was unparalleled, he could not necessarily be said to have done his best at the strategy meeting preceding the battle.  When the hardliners were irresponsibly calling for war, should he have fought them even if he had to wrestle them?   (Although, he probably would have lost if he had wrestled them.)   Yang gave a bitter smile when he thought that.   In any case, Yang had no choice but to report the prisoner exchange offer from the Empire to the Alliance capital, the planet which was named after the founding father, Heinesen. The government would respond with delight. While prisoners did not have voting rights, returning veterans did. This meant two-million votes plus their families’ votes. They were probably holding a grand celebration over this.    “Julian, for the first time in a long time, we might be returning to Heinesen,” he sounded cheerful, which Julian found to be a bit strange. Ceremonies, parties, speeches, etc., Heinesen was filled with all these things Yang hated.   However, Yang had to go to Heinesen.           III   The prisoner exchange was not carried out between the two countries. Both countries proclaimed that they were the only legitimate government among mankind, and neither recognized the existence of the other country. Therefore, diplomatic relationship among them could not be established.   If this was a problem that existed on a personal level, then people would have laughed themselves silly over the stubbornness. However, when this problem existed on a national level, in the name of authority and dignity, people would tolerate all unscrupulous behaviors.   The prisoner exchange was held within the Iserlohn Fortress on February 19th of that year. The representatives of each of the militaries exchanged the list of prisoners with each other, and signed the certificate.   “On the basis of humanitarianism and military regulations, both the Galactic Empire and the Free Planets Alliance have decided to allow the detained s.p.a.cemen to return home. It is our intention that they are released with honor.   Imperial Calendar, February 19, 488. Galactic Imperial Fleet representative: High Admiral Siegfried Kircheis.   Universal Calendar, February 19, 797, Free Planets Alliance Fleet representative: Admiral Yang Wen-li.”   When Yang finished signing, Kircheis flashed him a youthful smile, “While formality might be necessary, this also feels a bit ridiculous, Admiral Yang.”   “I agree.”   Yang had been observing Kircheis. While Yang was young, Kircheis was younger – only twenty-one years old. When the women in Iserlohn learned that he was an outstandingly tall and handsome young man with red hair that appeared to have been dyed in a liquid of dissolved ruby, and pleasant feeling blue-eyes, and that he was one of the best admirals in the Galactic Imperial Fleet, they held a favorable impression of him. Although Yang had fought him directly during the Battle of Amritsar, and knew that he was a confidant of Marquis Reinhard von Lohengramm, it was still difficult to hold animosity towards this young man.   Kircheis also held a similar impression of Yang. Their parting handshake was not one out of perfunctory courtesy.   “What a pleasant man.”   That was how Julian described his impression of Kircheis afterwards. While Yang nodded, to harbor a more favorable impression of an enemy commander than of an Alliance politician was still strange if one thought about it. However, it was not uncommon for enemies in front of you to be more dignified than the people who machinations behind the scenes. Besides, the enemies now may not be enemies forever. In any case, at the moment, Yang was able to openly use the excuse of “the returning s.p.a.cemen’s welcoming ceremony” to return to Heinesen temporarily.           IV   Four weeks after leaving Iserlohn, Yang and Julian arrived in the capital, Heinesen. In order to avoid the Central s.p.a.ceport (中央宇宙港) that had become deathly crowded with two million returning veterans, their greeting families, and hordes of journalists, they landed in the Third s.p.a.ceport (第三宇宙港), for regional pa.s.sengers and freight only, and quickly headed towards their officer’s residence via a driverless taxi. However, halfway, they b.u.mped into street closure at Hutchison (ハッチソン) Street, a street that had a mix of warehouses and labor apartments. The police were sweating profusely as they organized the crowd. While human resources were utilized to supplement the deficiencies in the ground transportation central control system, the cause of the street closure was unknown. Yang got off the taxi, and approached a seemingly inexperienced young police.   “What happened? Why is the street closed?”   “It is nothing. In any case, please do not approach any closer. It is dangerous,” the policeman said, pushing Yang back while saying these contradictory words with a tense expression. Since Yang was in plainclothes, he seemed to be unaware of who Yang was. For a split moment, Yang felt a mild temptation to reveal his name and question the situation, but in the end, Yang returned to his driverless taxi in silence. The guilt he would feel after exercising that privilege was stronger than his curiosity.   The situation was finally revealed after they made a long detour and arrived at their Silver Bridge Street (シルバーブリッジ街) officer’s residence, which had been empty for four months.   After selecting the dedicated news channel on the 3D television, the scene caught his attention immediately.   “… At the moment, the series of crimes committed by the returning veterans is still ongoing. The tragedy that occurred at Hutchison Street earlier today still remains unresolved. At least three people were killed…” the announcer’s mournful expression was disharmonic with his restrained voice.   In order to escape the fear of death on the battlefield, the s.p.a.cemen were using psychedelics and stimulants, and came back to the civilian society as addicts. Then, one day, they would explode. The fear and the madness would flow out of them like invisible lava, and surround them.   Yang thought of something, so he called over Julian, and asked him to retrieve the crime statistics from the data bank.  It was not deliberately done to make Julian work; the reason Yang did not do it himself was because he did not know how to operate the home computer.   What Yang predicted was correct. Compared to five years ago, the incidence of crime had increased by sixty-five percent. On the other hand, the arrest rate for crime was reduced by twenty-two percent. Not only were people becoming demoralized, the quality of the police was also falling.   During the long-term war, many of the officers and men were killed. The military had to replenish their fleets. As a result, human resources became lacking in all areas of society. Physicians, educators, police officers, system administrators, and computer engineers… The number of these skilled professionals was reduced, and their seats were either filled with those who were inexperienced, or left vacant. In this manner, the society that was supporting the military was weakened. A weak society inevitably lead to a weakened military, and a weakened military of course lost officers and men, which in turn needed to find replacements within the society…   One might as well say that this vicious cycle, or this spinning wheel of war, was spinning out an acc.u.mulation of contradiction. These were the things that Yang wanted to show those war hawks who claimed that, “Corruption by peace is more terrifying than destruction by war.”  As they sped up the collapse of this society, what were they attempting to protect when they argued in favor of war?     What are we protecting?   Yang tossed aside the doc.u.ment in his hand and plopped himself on the sofa. Ultimately, when he asked himself that question, he could not help but also question the meaning behind his actions. The thought that there was no meaning behind things he did was a thought that was not pleasant even for Yang.       The afternoon ceremony the next day was filled with the usual vacuous rhetoric, and it finished with hysteric military zeal.   “I feel like I used up a life time’s worth of patience in those two hours,”Yang complained to Julian, who had been waiting for him outside the venue. ‘All in all, you endured well,” Julian thought. In the past, Yang would show blatant antipathy towards this kind of ceremony. He had even stayed seated by himself amid entire standing crowds before. This time, quietly muttering, “What are you talking about? Ridiculous!” was the extent of his protest.   Yang exhaled deeply a few times, as if to rid himself of the poison gas he sucked in while in the venue. Suddenly, he noticed a group of about a hundred people marching on the street in front of him. They were wearing long white robes with red trims, and holding up signs that read, “Return our holy land.” They slowly marched forward while chanting.   “What is that?” Yang asked the young officer who stood close by.               “Ah, those are the believers of Terraism.”               “Terraism?”               “You don’t know them? That is the religion that has been growing like crazy these days. They deify and worship Terra.”               “Terra, huh…”               “Terra is the birthplace of the human race, so it is the most sacred holy land. At the moment, it is under the control of the Galactic Empire. They wish to overtake it by armed force, and then build a cathedral to lead the souls of all mankind. To accomplish this cause, they are willing to make any sacrifice to support this crusade…”               Yang was taken aback.               “Are they serious? That goal is utterly impossible.”               “I disagree,” the young officer replied gravely, “we are on the side of justice. Furthermore, Admiral Yang, if we have a great admiral like you joining us, we will be able to destroy the despotic Galactic Empire and take back Terra. Isn’t that true?”               “Well, it is not that easy,” Yang replied, careful not to let his displeasure surface.               This kind of fanatic existed in any era, but even so, this was too much.               Terra was certainly the mother planet of all mankind. However, to put it bluntly, it was only an object of sentimentalism. Eight centuries ago, Terra had ceased to be the center of human society. The border of civilization widened, and the center moved along with it. History could prove that.               In order to retake a senile frontier planet, it was worthwhile to shed the blood of millions of people. Where did this idea come from?               “Come to think of it, there is a similar group, the Patriotic Knights Corps. What are they up to these days?”               “I am not entirely sure, but quite a few of their members converted to Terraism. Well, they think similarly, so they fit right in.”               “They are fundamentally the same.”               Because Yang said that quietly, the officer did not seem to have heard him.               Yang considered taking the unmanned taxi with Julian to rest up in their officer’s residence until the party started in the evening.               A long, long time ago, there were armies of crusaders on Terra. For the sake of restoring access to their Holy Land, they invaded other countries in the name of G.o.d. They destroyed cities, robbed treasures, and ma.s.sacred populations. While they committed these shameful, nefarious acts and persecuted heretics, they flaunted these as their achievements.               It was a stain on history that was created by ignorance, fanaticism, narcissism, and intolerance. This should be the bitter proof that those who have trust in G.o.d’s justice can be the most brutal and s.a.d.i.s.tic of all. Are the Terraists attempting to reproduce the crusaders’ imbecility from 2,500 years ago on a cosmic scale?               There is a proverb that says, “Those who do good do it alone; those who commit idiocy covet companions.” Companions are unbearable.               However, this alleged Terra-recapturing exercise may not be as foolish as it appears to be on the surface.               The crusaders were backed by Venetian and Genoese maritime merchants who intended to weaken heretical influences in order to monopolize East-West trade. Their scheming ambition led them to support the fanatics. If this history were to repeat…               Is the third force, Fezzan, behind this?               This idea flashed across Yang’s mind, and he was stunned. Due to his abrupt movement in the narrow taxi seat, Julian eyed him and asked if everything was alright. After giving an ambiguous reply, Yang fell back into contemplation.               As for Fezzan, it will want the Empire and the Alliance to bask in mutual hatred and slaughter each other over Terra. That is understandable. However, if both sides collapsed, societal order would completely disintegrate. Would that not be troublesome for a commercial nation such as Fezzan? If Fezzan’s intention is to broaden their scope of control through this calculated move, then there is no reason to instigate. Besides, the energy of the fanatical spirit would eventually burst through Fezzan’s control. That is the inevitable outcome. Fezzan should know that.               I do not think they are serious about an armed recapture of Terra in order to restore its lost glory, but…               “I do not get it… What is Fezzan thinking?”               After he so murmured, he suddenly smiled wearily. When it was not even certain that Fezzan was behind the alleged Terraists. It was silly of him to struggle too much over this.               When they arrived at their officer’s residence, Yang wanted to have a drink to recover from the fatigue, so he called out to Julian, “Would you get me a gla.s.s of brandy?”               “You may have a gla.s.s of vegetable juice.”               “Um, do you think inspiration is born out of vegetable juice?”               “If your heart is in it.”               “Wait, who taught you to say stuff like that!?”               “The many teachers all over Iserlohn.”               The face of the tongue lashers, Cazerne and Schönkopf, came to mind, and Yang groaned.               “I should have been a little more concerned with your teenage educational environment.”               Julian laughed. After deciding that Yang may only have one gla.s.s, he brought Yang brandy.                       V               The party was better, but that was if you compared it to the ceremony that preceded it.               The politicians, capitalists, and the senior bureaucrats droned on and on with their monotonous and humorless speeches, but at least hysterical statements were not made.               In Iserlohn, while parties were arranged for the purpose of facilitating interactions between the civilians and the military, Chief Executive Yang still persisted his own way. When he was asked to speak, “Everyone, please enjoy yourselves,” was what he said. Although many civilian and military celebrities loved giving speeches, since Yang set the standard as such, they were forced to shorten their speeches as well.               “Admiral Yang’s Two-Second Speech” became an Iserlohn specialty.                  Antemortem, the young protagonist of this legend, the black-haired admiral who was the target of curiosity shown by the socialite women who attended this party, used his mouth almost exclusively for food.               “Admiral Yang, why are you not wearing your medals?”               “Because they are heavy. If I walk while wearing them, I would not be able to straighten my back.”               “Oh…”               “My ward said walking with a slouch makes me look like an old man.”               The ladies laughed cheerfully, but the speaker was not enjoying himself. This act was just a compromise for the sake of his salary.               Julian sat idly in the corner of the large venue crowd watching. All ten thousand attendees were famous people. It was a sight to behold.               The Alliance head-of-state, Supreme Chairman Trunicht, was present. He was said to be a master of rhetoric. Yang hated him so much that whenever his face appeared on the 3D television, Yang would change channels. The good thing was that Trunicht also seemed to be avoiding Yang.               Around that time, Yang was quickly walking away from the circle of ladies.               “Julian, it is about time to go.”               “Yes, Admiral.”               They acted in concert. Julian checked out their bag from the receptionist, Yang changed into inconspicuous plainclothes in the restroom, and stuffed his suit into the bag. Then, before anyone noticed, the duo slipped out of the venue.                   Mikhailov’s (ミハイロフの店) had a somewhat hyperbolic name. It was a modest twenty-four-hour restaurant that was situated at the entrance of Caudwell Park (コートウェル公園) in a downtown corner with many laborers.               Youthful poor and hopeful lovers would buy food or drinks from the restaurant, and then chat on the benches underneath the lights. This was that kind of place.               Mikhailov also worked as a military cook. When he was busy, he was not able to greet his customers one by one. When an old man, a young man, and a youth entered the restaurant, they went unnoticed in the dimly lit place.               The three of them ordered fish sticks, French fries, quiche pie, and milk tea, and then they sat down on one of the benches and started to eat and drink. It was a picnic spanning three generations. The three of them had barely ate at the party…               “Tsk, having to come to a place like this to talk just to avoid the public eye is an inconvenience.”               “I am enjoying this. I remember when I was in the Academy, I often racked my brain to come up with ways to break the curfew.”               The old man was the Alliance s.p.a.ce Fleet’s commander-in-chief (同盟軍宇宙艦隊司令長官), Admiral Bewc.o.c.k. The young man was Iserlohn’s fortress commander, Admiral Yang. If the restaurant owner Mikhailov and his customers found out, they would have been in shock. These two top officials had ditched the various parties to settle in a place like this.               The fish and potato triggered tantalizing nostalgia. During their time in the Academy, whenever Yang and his partner in crime, Robert Lapp, sneaked out of their dormitory, they would go to this kind of cheap and delicious restaurant to satisfy their adolescent appet.i.te.               After they had their fill of wine and strong spirits like schnapps, they would leave the restaurant and collapse on the sidewalk. The restaurant owner would contact Jessica Edwards, and she would rush over. To avoid being seen by the strict TAC officer (教官), she would move them to the back of the restaurant and watch over them.               “Jean Robert Lapp and Yang Wen-li. Open your eyes and pull yourself together. If you don’t get back before dawn, do you know what will happen?”               The two hung over young men would drink up the coffee Jessica gave them. Despite being black, the coffee had a peculiar sweetness to it…               Last year, Jean Robert Lapp was killed-in-action in the Battle of Astarte. Jessica Edwards, who was engaged to him, became the elected representative of the Thernusen District (テルヌーゼン惑星区). She had a seat in the Alliance parliament (同盟議会) as the leading pacifist faction representative.               Everything changed. Time continued along its path. Children became adults, and adults became seniors. Only the things which one could not take back increased.               The voice of the old admiral snapped Yang out of his day dream, “Well, no one will recognize us here. Did you have something to tell me?”               “That’s right.”               After a number of fish sticks and some milk tea disappeared into Yang’s stomach, he slowly started to speak, “There is a possibility that a coup will happen in the country in the near future.”               Yang’s tone sounded casual, but the old admiral’s hand became frozen in mid-air.               “Coup d’etat?”               “Yes.”               That was the conclusion Yang reached. He indifferently explained in detail the insights he gained on Marquis Reinhard von Lohengramm’s intent. The person that would be starting the coup would not know that he was being controlled by Marquis Lohengramm.               Bewc.o.c.k nodded in agreement, “Well, that seems reasonable. However, does Marquis Lohengramm really think that the coup will succeed?”               “As far as Marquis Lohengramm is concerned, it is fine even if it fails. What he wants is for the Alliance Fleet to fragment, because that alone is meaningful.”               “I see,” the old admiral said, crushing an empty paper cup with his two hands.               “But, in order for a coup to be instigated, it is necessary for people to believe it will be successful. He will have to develop a seemingly highly feasible plan.”               “Hmm…”               “If it is a local rebellion, then even if it is an exceptionally large one, if it does not cause a chain reaction in the other regions, it will be impossible to shake the central government. The most efficient method is to overwhelm the capital from within. If even those with power are held hostage, then we will not have the upper hand.”               “That is certainly likely.”               “That is the country’s brain. The center of power is also the center of the armed forces. If there is an uprising, the rebels will fail if they are faced with a more powerful and more organized armed force. At most they will be successful for three days,” Yang said, tossing the last French fries in his mouth. “Therefore, he should seize the power center in the capital, and start regional rebellions. It is necessary to have the organic combination of both.”               Julian was sitting beside Yang, and his eyes shined as the young commander expanded his reasoning. This was the materialization of several months of intellectual exercise.               “In other words, we must disperse the forces in the capital. To achieve this, we must start a revolt on the frontier, so fleets will be deployed to suppress them. The deployed fleets can then suppress the home fleet. Hmm, hopefully it won’t play out in such a brilliantly picturesque way.”               “As mentioned earlier, Marquis Lohengramm does not need the coup d’etat to be successful. If the Alliance is divided and in chaos, and cannot intervene in the Empire’s unrest, his will have achieved his purpose.”               “It is complicated just to think about.”               “It is more complicated to do. However, if he makes other people do it, then he would not even need to spend much effort.”               For the fearless young blond, such a thing will only be a game to aid digestion after a meal, thought Yang.               “So even you don’t know who will be carrying out the coup?”               “It is impossible to know.”               “Then, I must antic.i.p.ate recent events to try and prevent the coup d’etat from happening.”               “If it happens, you will need a large military and time to suppress it, and it will cause damage. But, if prevention measures are done in advance, then one company of military police is all you need.”               “I see. It is a serious responsibility.”               “Also, I have another favor to ask of you.”               “Oh?”               Yang lowered his voice, and the old admiral leaned in to hear.               Julian, who was sitting a little further was not able to hear their discussion. He felt somewhat discouraged, but if it was good for him to know, then Yang would tell him at some point. The conversation that took place up until this point was enough to cause the teenager’s heart rate to speed up.               “Alright, I understand,” Bewc.o.c.k nodded heavily.                         “I will definitely deliver those to you before you leave Heinesen. However, I don’t know if it will become useful.”               Yang blew in the empty French fries paper bag to inflate it, and then smacked it with both his palms. The large popping sound surprised those around them.               “Sorry to trouble you, but please keep this conversation confidential.”               Yang crumpled the paper bag into a ball, and tossed it out. The hemispherical robot cleaner (清掃ロボット・カー) played a popular melody from 20 years ago, rushed over, and stuffed the ball into its body. Bewc.o.c.k also tossed his paper bag towards the robot cleaner, and stood up as he stroked his chin.               “Well, let’s part here. Take care.”               The old admiral disappeared into the street under the night sky, and Yang and Julian also stood up.               As he walked towards the driverless taxi station alongside Yang, Julian suddenly thought, Right now, those who are planning the coup d’etat are probably having a conclave somewhere to avoid the public eye too.               When Julian mentioned it, Yang curved his mouth curiously.               “Yeah, and eating better food and looking more serious than us.”                       VI               This was a stark, windowless room that lacked even the furniture to indicate the owner’s personality. The room was dimly lit, and it was difficult to see the faces of the ten men surrounding the meeting table.               “Okay, let us confirm this one more time.”               While his voice was low, all the attendees turned their head towards one direction. A part of the wall turned into a display, and a star chart showing Free Planets Alliance’s territory from zenith appeared.               “The first attack will be on planet Nephthys (ネプティス) on April 3rd of t