166 Free-Drifting Planet Arc 8: Deception

side: Imperial Capital, space before Nibiru (Akira)

So, is there any way to get word to Kyle without the Nibiru side finding out?

If I just broadcast it openly, my lie to Nibiru will be exposed.

That leaves the encrypted conference room in the neural web—probably the best option.

Even the Emperor can't eavesdrop on conversations inside there.

Still, I’ll need some excuse not to flood the comms...

Good thing Nibiru only sends messages using old Imperial encryption. That means nothing sensitive will leak to the current Empire.

‘Kyle, wait in the encrypted conference room.’

I made my decision—time to deceive the Empire. I called Kyle.

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side: Secure Neural Conference Room (Akira, Kyle)

Waiting in the neural conference room, Kyle’s avatar arrived—the regent, the emperor’s proxy.

Kyle holds supreme decision-making authority on the Empire’s side right now.

If something of catastrophic scale arises, we’d have to consult the emperor himself, who’s currently recuperating. But if we steer the conversation just right, we can avoid that entirely.

It’s painful to deceive Kyle… but if it means both the Empire and the True Empire suffer minimal damage, then this is a lie worth telling.

Back in middle school, my old teacher taught me there are two kinds of lies.

There’s lying to deceive, and lying to save. The idea was, if a lie causes no one harm and helps people, then telling it isn’t wrong.

Kyle… I’m sorry. This is a lie meant to save someone. Please forgive me.

“Kyle. I figured out their true identity.”

“Really? Wait—how the hell did you manage that?”

Kyle seems just as curious about the nature of the free-floating planet as he is about the method of contact.

“Yeah… they’re nomads. Lost souls drifting between stars, passing through this system by chance.

The only way we managed contact was because my Personal Ship happened to have flagship-grade equipment.

Likely, right now, I’m the only one who can reach them.

They don’t seem interested in contacting us any other way—though they’re definitely picking up our signals.

And they’re choosing to ignore us. Still, I think we should keep our hand hidden. Don’t show them too much of our cards.”

We're friendly now... but who knows what'll spark a fight.

Careless of me. I nearly said Nibiru—swallowed the name before it could slip out.

If the name Nibiru had remained in the Empire's data bank, it might've been flagged as an opposing force.

Right. Then this communication should only use the network's encrypted channels.

Let Akira handle the negotiations with them.

So, what’s their demand? Supplies?

Kyle, as expected. Always one step ahead.

I can already guess we’ll need resupply soon.

If you're making a long journey through the star sea and deliberately stopping by a star system, it's reasonable to assume you're there for resupply.

"Yeah. But they're dealing with trouble—unless we act now, we'll need enough food for a hundred million people by tonight."

"One hundred million? You really are in a tight spot, huh."

Kyle must’ve thought the free-floating planet’s people were starving and that we’d need emergency resupply.

And right away, Kyle’s head’s already calculating how much we can pull together on short notice.

Even if we scrounge from across the Empire, handing over food for a hundred million all at once would hit the Imperial Capital’s citizens hard.

That’s why he’s panicking.

“No, we’ve reached our destination—so their cryo-sleep will automatically end.

If we do nothing, a hundred million people wake up every day. In ten days, we’ll need supplies for a billion.”

“So we just need to stop the cryo-sleep from ending?”

Kyle figures out the fix. His breathing steadies a little.

Smart guy. Always good to have you on the case.

“That’s right. But they can’t stop the thawing themselves.

I’m going to break into their facility and stop it. I need your permission.”

Got it. Akira’s in charge of handling the wanderers. In the meantime, we’ll gather as much rations as possible.

Assigned. Ultimately, I’ll take them back to my home star system—Elysion.

There’ll be plenty of supplies untouched there.

They won’t want to sleep forever, I assume.

Now both Nibiru’s side and the current Empire’s side can pass each other without knowing who’s who.

Right. First things first—gotta stop the thawing of the cryo-sleep.

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ｓｉｄｅ：Nebir space (Akira)

『Sorry for the wait. I’ve got the supply logistics sorted out for the new Imperial Capital—the fake one.

Please halt the cryo-thawing and head this way.

We’ve also summoned our old contract specialists to the new Imperial Capital.』

Let’s stop the cryo-thawing.

We’ll guide you. Enter from the spaceport on Nibiru’s surface.

But here’s the problem. We, the Keepers of the Star, can’t alter Nibiru’s course.

What?

We’re just caretakers. To change the course, we’d have to wake the Star’s Pilot.

He’s the original—1,200 years old. There’s a strict rule: never wake him unless absolutely necessary.

The original Old Empire person?

Awkward. If he wakes up, things’ll probably go sideways.

But if we don’t wake him, we can’t redirect Nibiru toward my home system—Elysion.

What now? What now?

Anyway, for now, let’s just stop the thaw. If we don’t, people will die needlessly.

“We’ll figure that out later. At minimum, we’re stopping the cryo-thaw—so we don’t let ten billion people starve.”

Honestly, if we couldn’t do this, it’d be a disaster.

But why the hell is auto-thaw even enabled if we don’t know if the destination’s safe?

Didn’t they have *any* doubt about the old Empire’s glory?

Ah. The tech to stop auto-thaw’s been lost to the current Keepers of the Star.

Should’ve been stopped—back then—but now it’s been so long the system can’t even be halted.

So how long have the people in cold sleep actually been asleep…?