Grey here. Online shopping’s pretty convenient. You don’t know you need it before you lose it.
That’s right. The Spirit System’s just an online shopping platform, but for special people with special needs like me. It feels like one of those old shopping catalogs from the early 2000’s—and I’m horrified coz it’s just fuckin’ tables of text in size 8.
… Good thing there’s customer service I can talk to.
Uhh, one railgun, please.
—M9001 Electromagnetic Mass Driver detected in system. Proceed with installation?
Yep, that one.
—Would you like AIM-511 Surface-to-Air Missiles with that?
Oh, right, I ran out of that a while back. Sure, sure.
I’ve been shooting off Marge’s magic missiles for a while now. They’re not bad, but it just doesn’t hit right for me.
Also, AIM-511? Uncle Sam’s really not giving up on a series when he likes it, huh?
Just between us, M9001’s kinda funny. Coz it’s over 9000, haha, ha … dead meme, huh? Sigh.
Sadly, I can’t order infinite stuff. It looks like I get a limited pool of something called Requisition to “buy” stuff with—I say “buy,” but the moment the thing I bought gets used up or destroyed, the Vegas Node says I’ll just eventually get the Requisition back over time.
I had 1000R and the railgun cost me 800R. Each missile is 5R. The Node didn’t really have anything else to offer other than a bunch of suspicious 2000-year-old rations, so I just dumped the remaining 200R into getting AIM-511’s and… 40 isn’t a lot at all. Not when I’m squaring off against whole-ass battle stations.
I’m not even sure if 2000-year-old missiles would still work? It’s already sort of a wonder that I wasn’t rusted over back when I first came to, actually. Probably some sort of super advanced metallurgy behind the works or something.
—ANSWER: All armaments are manufactured on-demand.
… So the battle stations can just scoop out a mountain and shit out missiles, huh. Where’d you even get all the chemicals and rare earth stuff needed for explosives and electronics? Just picking out a random mountain won’t get you that stuff.
—ANSWER: Ley line energy makes elemental transmutation possible. Any substance required can be acquired, given time.
… That answers that. These things are part-tech, part-magic, huh.
Still, wow, 2000 years? It’s a sort of a rough estimate, but it makes me wonder just how the fuck getting cut in half by an F-35 wing had anything to do with becoming an aircraft carrier.
“Sir Grey? Are you alright? Your usual vibrations are strange.”
Wow, she can tell my mood from that?
{Sigh. I’ll talk about it over dinner, later. How’d the meeting go, by the way?}
She’s walking alone along a corridor, so I don’t think she’ll be too bothered about talking about that kinda stuff here.
“It was as expected. I suspect, however, that Merika’s relationship with Las Vegas will change drastically in the coming years.”
{Is that… a bad thing?}
"Not at all. Lord Cashhouse values long-term connections, which makes him not unreasonable when it comes to critical junctions. Although the deal this time may have cost us a significant amount, he will also be bearing significant losses in the near future.
“It is in our mutual interest to safeguard the Las Vegas Labyrinth, after all. Now, Sir Grey, please excuse me.”
Sam disappears into her quarters and locks the door.
—Notice: Order #313 is ready. Awaiting reception confirmation.
Huh? Reception? Wait, where?
—Spirit unit USS DICK is equipped with a materialization chamber for logistics and resupply. Query: Is spirit unit USS DICK unaware of materialization chamber operations?
No? This is my first time hearing of this, the heck.
—Requesting permission to perform remote diagnostics of the materialization chamber.
Go for it, I guess.
—Acknowledged. All instruments and connections intact. Connection made. Detected foreign objects in materialization chamber. Foreign objects must be removed before calibration can be performed.
I don’t even know where it is, though!
—Materialization chamber is located in Area 02, Cargo Deck.
… Ah. There’s a bunch of wyverns there. This’ll take some reshuffling.
That Texas Red guy and Marge are the ones who use that deck the most, weren’t they? Guess I’ll call for them on the PA. I’m too lazy to actually find them.
{Marge and—} Wait, shit, I can’t just call him Texas Red. {—okay, just Marge for now. Get to the Operations Room for … consultation.}
After about 15 minutes, Marge pops in with Sam into the Ops Room and they take up the couch. Sam’s got a double bento meal. She really likes that, huh?
“Greey~ What’s up?”
“Good afternoon, Sir Grey. I will be having my time off here for a moment, please don’t mind me.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
They both plop down on the couch. Sam unwraps her meal and gets to it. Guess I better do, too.
{Alright, so, the Node—labyrinth’s asking me to clear out a space in the cargo deck. Looks like it was a teleport chamber all along. Area 02, if that’s familiar?}
“Huh, that’s Major Billison’s turf.”
Oh. So that’s his name.
{Huh. Well, anyway, since you’re doing the engineering and stuff, there’ll be materials and equipment coming in from there from now on that you might use. I’m not sure how often the teleport’s gonna be used, though.}
“… and?” Huh? Can’t she see the point?
{… I figured you and Major Billy should talk it out, coz if your stuff’s gonna cut through their turf, they might as well know?}
“Ohhh, you were worried about that!” Yes. Yes I was. “Don’t worry about it! As long as we don’t bump into the wyverns’ nests, just a couple of ’scuse-me’s works just fine!”
Huh. That’s pretty casual.
{Ah, right, I have a new railgun coming in through that, so mind if you round up the technicians for it soon? Thanks.}
“Ehhh~ Finee~”
***
I found Major Billison in the cargo deck, thing being that it’d probably take him 20 minutes to get up to the Ops Room. I don’t really want that, so…
{Major Billison?}
A bunch of the wyvern riders look confused. I don’t think I’ve ever used the PA system here before.
“Y’all, it’s just the ship.” Major Billy shouts, and everyone gets back to their business. He looks up to the ceiling. As if I’m there, but I guess it’s really hard to talk to someone when you don’t know where to look, huh? “What can I do fer ya?”
{Uhh, right. We gotta rearrange the cargo deck for a bit.}
The surrounding riders grumble. I think I heard someone say “We just fixed this place up!” Heh. Sorry, guys.
{Just gotta clear out Area 02 coz it’s a teleport room. Oh, and Marge’s people ought to take care of whatever pops in.}
The riders are mostly relieved, except for the three dudes in Area 02.
“A’ight. S’for cargo, I wager?”
{You can say that.}
“A’ight, so we’ll need a path to the elevators…” He looks to the guy beside him and pats him on the shoulder. “Ya take care of it fer me, a’ight?”
Major Billy walks off, leaving a confused lieutenant behind.
***
Surprisingly, the lieutenant gets it done, and Area 02’s scrubbed clean of what I think is wyvern shit. Not sure how it smells, but I wouldn’t wanna know, anyhow.
—Foreign objects cleared. Initiating calibration.
{Starting teleport room testing! Stay away from the doors!} I announce, making sure there aren’t any idiots trying to stick their fingers into the forbidden spatial whirlpool generator—that’s how teleports work, right?
Several slats come down to gate off a part of the floor. Looks like the teleport room isn’t really a room. It’s surrounded on three sides by walls that reach up to the high ceiling of the deck—you’d imagine this place would need to house aircraft with folded-up wings, so the ceiling’s pretty high. The open side is gated off by slats that ride on vertical rails, and they come down like a garage door when a horn sounds to warn about the incoming teleport.
—Beginning reception test. Sending test banana.
What?
Blue light leaks out in a flash through the gaps of the slat gate. A few riders whistle at the sight.
—Test banana displacement within acceptable XY-tolerances. Z-tolerance failed; banana phased into floor. Realigning.
Why a banana—
—ANSWER: Organic samples are used to check for post-teleport degredation.
Okay, I get that, but why a banana?
—ANSWER: Organic items in current inventory that have survived
O-okay.
—ALERT: Test banana cannot be retrieved due to material superposition. Initiating quantum collapse to regain physical normalcy.
H-hey, that won’t make a black hole or someshit, right?
It doesn’t answer me, and another blue light flashes through the slats. The world is intact, and I’m still an aircraft carrier. This is normal? I guess it’s normal.
—Collapse complete. Restarting reception test…
***
So I wasn’t that happy with some parts of the test, and my adorable crew were never aware that some physics-destroying shit that could’ve sucked the earth into a black hole was going on around the corner, but I’ve got a working teleport chamber now. Yay, I guess.
Ayt, send it in.
The technicians were already waiting by the teleport, so when it flashed blue and the gate came up, they were all gawking, but then scratching their heads.
Coz they didn’t have a forklift.
Well, they’ll get it sorted out soon enough. What matters is I can get back to my usual firepower!
“Sir Grey, plot a course for Dallas. We will be leaving in four hours.”
Weird. I didn’t notice it, but Sam’s already at the bridge.
Four hours, huh… Repairs aren’t quite done, but I can fly. The technicians might take another two hours to somehow attach the new railgun—no idea if these guys can follow an ancient installation manual—and another twelve hours to fully patch all of the holes. All the engines are fixed though. Marge prioritized them, after all.
I tell Sam all these things just to be sure if she really wants to go at it. I don’t think we’ll have better luck next time we bump into a fuckin’ death star, of all things.
Sam sighs from my report. “We have little choice. We’ve already acquired what we needed from Las Vegas, and now I suspect that both Washington and Dallas will be scrambling to send diplomats and some battalions this way.”
{Huh? Is Las Vegas that important?}
"This is an independent territory with its own constitution, economy, and military. However, its constitution declares itself a part of the ancient United States, and considers Merika a mere part of the United States.
“They pay taxes and provide ample soldiers for Merika, while retaining the military power and prowess to make annexing them more disadvantageous than simply playing along with their independence and giving it some tax breaks. Both sides have been happy with that, until now.”
{The labyrinth changed that?}
Sam nods. “Las Vegas will become more powerful from now on. Both Dallas and Washington do not wish for a third player to suddenly arise in their midst. Moving to restrain or subjugate Las Vegas is the rational choice for them. After the desolation of the western part of the continent by the demon invasions, I believe they will not have the resources to outright commence hostilities against Las Vegas.”
I squint a little bit with the bridge camera, and I notice this really dark, conspiratorial look on Sam’s face. I’m honestly kinda excited.
If I’m thinking about this from Sam’s perspective, it looks like she’s really hell-bent on expressing all her daddy issues to a violent degree. I remember she also wants the South to take our side when she declared the Crusade. Since she’s on good terms with Vegas…
{So … we’re going to Dallas to … convince them not to attack Vegas?}
“That’s right.” Sam smiles. “Simply by knowing that we, the Holy Crusade, are coming from the direction of Las Vegas, Dallas will suspect our relationship and think twice about making hasty moves. We will take this time to establish ourselves as an ally to Dallas. With us as intermediary, Las Vegas and Dallas will be confident that they will not be attacking each other, even if Dallas will still be sending troops to screen Las Vegas.”
{… And it’ll be an alliance.}
“Father will be delightfully enraged.”
… Y’know, honestly, when’d she think of all of this? Las Vegas was supposed to be a pit stop, not some sort of 4D chess play!
Actually, in hindsight, we were supposed to ally with the South in the first place. Sam’s declaration pretty much shouted “Fuck you, dad” at a fever pitch. I never heard anything about Dallas agreeing to shake hands, though, so I guess they were just nervous about setting anything in stone.
“Sir Grey, just a reminder. Do alert me if the Dallas Labyrinth behaves irregularly to you. Unlike Las Vegas, the Dallas Labyrinth is alive and is occupied by mimics.”
{There’s also our last encounter with a flying fort-slash-labyrinth.} That shit was scary. {I’m not sure I can do much against one. They’re just—built differently, okay? It’s scary!}
“Worry not. My dear Marge is already onto countermeasures. For now, I’ve tasked the dragon knights as advanced scouts.” Sam chuckled. “I could not have ever foreseen a day when Merika’s most powerful forces are reduced to scouts. Granted, they are scouts with a 100-mile operating range, but somehow, I feel empathy for their broken pride…”
Speaking of scouts. {Ah, right, can you tell everyone I’ll also be bringing out November’s little gift? It’d suck if they shot it down, and all.}
Sam smiles. She hasn’t let go of teasing me about it, after all. “Of course. It would break all of our hearts if that happened.”