Chương 438: 207.Battlecruiser Asgard 1

The moment the Busgo bay doors shut, the first thing I heard wasn't the echo of metal biting into metal. It was silence. The kind of silence that's short and thin, yet enough to tell you the world has already shed one layer of skin. Outside was an Imperial Navy port, checkpoints, a corridor Hedwig had forced open with the weight of a princess's identity. Inside was something else entirely.

Steel bulkheads, Busgo ramps, maintenance platforms, lift shafts, overhead lights so white they hurt, and a handful of maintenance crew who clearly hadn't worked out what was happening yet, tablets and toolboxes still in their hands. Good. At this range, even explaining felt like a waste of time. I took my hand off the suitcase, swept my eyes across the Busgo bay, and said:"Move." Six Bus doors opened at almost the same instant. It must have been an ugly sight.

One second earlier we were a wounded-escort convoy smeared over with bandages, bloodstains and exhaustion; the next, the doors flew up and the whole Bus of Federation second-years poured out like something molting. Some still had fake hemostatic bandages wrapped on, some had blankets draped over their shoulders, some hadn't even properly fixed the wigs they wore as disguise — and every one of them moved like all that earlier stumbling had just been a wind-up. The maintenance crew inside the bay visibly froze.

A young technician clutching a tablet had only just opened his mouth when D came out of the last Bus like a shell finally cleared to fire, tore the tablet out of the man's hands with one hand and slammed him onto the edge of a Busgo crate with the other. Jess cut in from the side, muzzle held steady, and put down the two workers in maintenance coveralls on the right first.

"Hands up," she said.

"I'm in a decent mood today. Don't make me pull the trigger twice." Akari was faster than her. One second earlier the kid had looked like a problem student with a bad shoulder and bright eyes; the next she'd vaulted the railing, dropped to the lower Busgo passage, kicked aside a ground crewman reaching for the alarm, and thrown him bodily into a stack of equipment cases. It sounded like some very expensive piece of hardware and one human filing a joint complaint against reality. Maki didn't waste a single motion.

She came down from Bus A, took two steps straight into the group nearest the console, dropped a bay crewman's communicator with a knife-hand strike, then twisted another man's wrist up behind his back. The whole sequence was so clean it was almost emotionless — like she'd spent her days in the student council pinned down by administrative procrastination, and today she'd finally been reassigned to a workplace that suited her. I went straight for the duty desk at the front of the bay.

When the duty officer saw me, his first instinct wasn't to run — it was to open his mouth and shout. Good. That meant he was diligent — and that his jaw was about to hurt. I grabbed his collar, pulled him forward, drove my knee into his gut, and once he folded, pressed the muzzle of my sidearm against his cheek.

"Don't shout," I said.

"I don't feel like mopping blood out of a Busgo bay today." He stopped shouting immediately. That's better. The most admirable thing about civilization is that most people's learning curve improves dramatically when there's a muzzle against their skin. In under half a minute, the dozen or so unarmed maintenance workers, recorders and loaders in the bay were all pinned. No alarm, no real resistance, not even one complete cry for help got out.

Hedwig stood at the side of the ramp and hadn't said a word the entire time. Watching the scene in the bay, her eyes turned complicated. Not simple surprise, not fear either — more like the first time she truly understood that these students who'd chatted with her, played along with her act, and even traded jabs with each other in the Bus could, the moment the order came, flip and move in a way that looked nothing like an ordinary military-academy exchange group. That was only natural. Because we never were one.

At least, not only that. The doors on Bus B opened too. Lan led a few students still in decent shape in Busrying the real wounded out, setting up a temporary safe zone against the inner wall of the bay. Half of the bandages and bloodstains that had been props for faking critical injuries finally got put to genuine medical use, and somehow they looked more plausible than before.

Harvey came down from Bus C at a jog, took one look at the situation in the bay, and immediately shifted into the mode where he talks too much normally and becomes the most useful person in the room the moment something goes wrong.

"Anything that can move, to the left. Anything that can't, hold still for now. You — tourniquet, give it to me. You, stop staring, go get a medical crate. Yes, you. This is not the time to space out." I glanced at him. Good. He was annoying most of the time, but at least when chaos needed to be squeezed into a procedure, he looked a bit like a professional. I raised a hand and threw the ship's internal schematic I'd just pulled off the terminal onto the nearest Busgo crate.

"Everyone listen up. We don't have much time." I tapped out a few sections with my finger.

"Weapons first, then the ship. This newbuild hasn't been formally commissioned, so the alarms and the main systems aren't fully linked — but that kind of luck won't hold. Right now we're going to steal the whole thing while it's still a half-asleep aristocrat." Jess looked at the schematic and whistled.

"You make taking a ship sound like stealing afternoon tea."

"That's because your understanding of theft isn't sophisticated enough," I said. Maki stepped over beside the projection and took a look at the bay's structure.

"Armory's on the lower inner deck."

"Right." I nodded.

"So the first wave isn't the bridge — it's the armory. Walking onto a bridge empty-handed is called idealism. Going up after you've got the guns is called basic respect for institutions." Only then did Hedwig finally speak.

"You've already thought this far ahead？" I looked at her.

"Your Highness, I said it. I just prepared a lot of exits and prayed they'd never be used." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. D was cuffing the maintenance crew's hands behind their backs with zip ties as he looked up and cut in.

"What she means is, she prepared a whole set of plans that could wreck the world, then pretends she was just being prudent."

"Thank you for the summary," I said.

"Very accurate."

"You're welcome." D bared his teeth cheerfully.

"So it's finally my turn to shine, right?"

"It is." I scrolled the schematic down and pointed out the armory and the security corridor.

"You, Jess, Akari and I clear the armory first. Maki, on us. Roy and Lan, you too. Harvey, take a few dozen engineering students and pull a squad of guards — go take control of the outer components around the power core." Harvey looked up.

"You're sure you want me touching the power core?"

"I'm not letting you touch the core. I'm letting you touch the stuff around the core," I said.

"Take apart what can be taken apart, lock down what can be locked down, and as long as this ship doesn't move except the way I want it to, you pass." Harvey's face twitched.

"Your definition of 'pass' really is creative."

"Thank you. You can start your internship now." He let out a long sigh, and then, of all things, nodded anyway.

"Fine. Engineering and ship-maintenance specialists, with me. I want another squad who can Busry guns. Let me be clear up front — if anyone treats the main coolant line like a handrail, they get yelled at first."

"Sounds very teacherly," Jess said.

"Shut up," Harvey shot back. I turned my eyes to the other side.

"Nikaido." Freya Nikaido came over from Bus B at a quick pace, exhaustion and temper from the professional-mourning duty still on her face. The woman had real talent — she could even get angry in an orderly fashion.

"What?"

"Take the armed disciplinary committee members and clear this ship of anyone who shouldn't be here," I said.

"Maintenance, bay crew, temp technicians, duty clerks — anyone who isn't ours gets rounded up and held by the Busgo bay door. Don't kill them yet. Just stack them. I want this place one-way. Only we go deeper." Nikaido frowned.

"You're making me a jailer?"

"I'm making you a battlefield disciplinary officer who speaks Imperial, is mean enough, and loves policing people." I paused, then added, very sincerely, "It suits you." She glared at me for two seconds. In the end she didn't even talk back. She just took the gun, turned, and picked out a few students who were already in the disciplinary system.

"You, you, and you, with me. Everyone else help Lan with the wounded and the sealed-off sections. If anyone gets jumpy, shoot them in the leg." Good. Put this woman in a functional slot and she acts almost human. Watching all of it, Hedwig finally drew a very soft breath. It wasn't fear. It was more like watching a disguise get torn off and seeing the actual structure underneath. These Federation students weren't a rabble. They weren't even military cadets in the ordinary sense.

Once they were slotted into position, they'd sprout a use immediately — like a machine that spent its days pretending to be a student council and a school trip, and only revealed its military ports at the decisive moment. I didn't have time to let her digest that realization slowly. I just said one thing to her.

"Your Highness, you're coming with us."

"Me?" Hedwig blinked.

"Who else?" I gave her a look.

"Without you, this ship is just a very handsome coffin." Hedwig looked back at me. There was clearly a sentence in that look, and it read: Hoshino Shimo, you really are turning into a villain. Good. I'll take it. Over the next ten minutes, the whole ship began to transfuse under our hands. The armory first.

It was easier to take than I'd expected, because the people guarding it had never imagined that a group of Federation students who'd just been waved through as a wounded-escort convoy would come straight down the internal Busgo passage into their faces. D took point, kicked the sentry at the outer door flat, Maki cut the internal comms, Jess and Akari suppressed the corridor, and I went in with Roy and Lan to take the registry desk.

Inside, rows of standard-issue laser rifles, sidearms, power cells and stun grenades were arranged so neatly it was moving. I felt an immediate urge to develop respect for the Imperial logistics system. Though the main content of that respect was: thank you for preparing all this so thoughtfully for us.

"Move it," I said. The moment that one word went out, the students behind me turned into a moving company with the right button pressed, and began passing usable weapons, ammunition and protective gear out at speed. People who'd been draped in blankets playing wounded a minute ago now picked up power cells with real vigor. Human beings are strange creatures — once they know they might have to survive on these things in a moment, even hauling ammunition gets done with a sense of responsibility.

Roy counted as he went, calling out numbers.

"Sidearms, twenty-seven. Long guns, forty-one. Spare power cells, two and a half crates. Stun grenades, one crate. Melee blades, one rack."

"Take it all," I said.

"This really looks like robbery."

"Because it is robbery." Lan stood by the door, calmly handing sidearms one by one to the people behind her, efficient enough to be handing out student council meeting materials. The only difference was that what she was handing out today wasn't an agenda — it was a certificate of qualification to walk off an Imperial warship alive and on to the next stage. Once we'd emptied half the armory, I re-split the people. Bus B's wounded and non-combatants formally established a safe zone in one corner of the bay.

A few people Lan had left behind handled medical Buse and the sealed doors, while Nikaido started taking armed disciplinary members through the ship, dragging out one by one the people who had absolutely no business being here at this hour and herding them back to the Busgo bay entrance. Soon there was a small huddle crouched beside the bay entrance, maintenance and bay crew whose faces looked worse than the actual wounded. Honestly, the sight was fairly educational.

At the very least it taught people one thing: the safest place in ordinary times is no help at all when someone else decides to turn on you first — your uniform and your procedures won't save you. Harvey set out with his team too. Dozens of engineering students followed him, plus a squad of guards who'd been issued guns, and the whole formation looked like some kind of off-campus internship group the school would deeply disapprove of.

He turned back to me before leaving and said one thing:"If we take the outer ring of the power core, this ship might not fully obey us, but at least it won't suddenly start listening to someone else."

"Good," I said.

"I like that kind of plain, unglamorous professional ethics." Once the teams had dispersed, the only ones left with me were the core squad. Maki. Jess. D. Roy. Lan. Akari. And Hedwig. I raised a hand and shrank the main passage map down to a single shortest line.

"The bridge." Maki nodded without a word. D shouldered the rifle he'd just taken, clearly already in his happiest working mode. Jess checked power cells and gave a lazy whistle, as if we were headed off to watch a show rather than assault a bridge. Akari ripped the fake bandages off her shoulder entirely, eyes bright like it was finally her turn to take the stage for real. I was two steps into the walk when I stopped.

"Strange," I said, frowning. Maki tilted her head.

"What?"

"We made a fair amount of noise," I said.

"The Busgo bay, the armory, the maintenance section — even if they're slow, someone should have pulled an alarm by now." Jess shrugged.

"Maybe Imperial warship work ethics are like their aristocratic dinner parties. Big on elegance. Straighten your cuffs first, then deal with the problem."

"Then they're taking an awfully long time straightening them," I said. That was when Hedwig finally spoke from behind us.

"Because this ship hasn't been commissioned." We all looked at her. She stood under the white light of the ship's interior, still in that Imperial dress uniform she hadn't had time to change out of, and already it no longer looked as tidy as it had at this morning's speech. Dust on the shoulder line, blood on the cuffs, and her expression maturing faster than yesterday's. Apparently the edge of treason is a real workout. She went on, calm.

"High-end Imperial warships, especially newbuilds, mostly run on genetic locks and royal authority management. Before formal activation, many main systems are only on standby — they don't fully link up. Internal alarms, full-ship lockdown, weapons authorization — part of all that has to be opened through designated authority." She glanced at me.

"Without royal DNA, you can't truly activate it." The Busgo passage went quiet for a moment. Then Jess was the first to laugh. Not mocking laughter — the kind that comes when you suddenly realize the answer to the last question on the exam is sitting in the seat next to yours, and your mood improves accordingly.

"Excellent. Miss Key." Hedwig's brows drew together at once.

"Miss McCallow, I am not some prop."

"Fine." Jess amended without a Buse.

"A high-end prop that talks, gets angry, and drives the ship for us."

"Jess," Maki said her name again. This time even I nearly laughed. Hedwig had clearly been thoroughly choked by that label; her expression hovered somewhere between wanting to argue and having to admit that she was, in fact, the single most important living key in this whole ship-theft operation. So I very considerately summed it up for her.

"Relax, Your Highness. Props don't usually get a say. You clearly do." She shot me a glare. Good. Still enough energy to glare. That means she's in decent shape. I turned my eyes back to the main passage ahead, the one running to the bridge. White light strips stretched along the deck, ending at an airtight door thicker than an ordinary hatch, and past that was the real brain of the ship. I tightened my grip on the gun in my hand.

"The good news is, this ship is still asleep," I said.

"The bad news is, we now have to go turn off the alarm and put the key in." D grinned.

"This is way more fun than a school trip."

"If the Federation Ministry of Education heard that, they'd want you expelled on the spot," Roy said.

"Then don't let them hear it." Maki stepped half a pace forward, eyes on the door leading to the bridge.

"Enough talk," she said.

"Let's go." I nodded, swept my eyes across every face, and stopped on Hedwig.

"Your Highness, after this there really is no turning back." Hedwig looked ahead, was silent for a second, then answered softly.

"I've heard that line a lot today."

"Then I hope this is the last time." With that, I raised my muzzle toward the passage ahead and took the first step toward the bridge.