Episode 4 — Completed: Special Privateer Vessel <>

The Work Machine at Dock Four constructs the vessel Dawson designed on the virtual screen, assembling it from the wreckage of a ship that arrived from SU.

The hull frame takes shape. Equipment is installed. The process resembles playing a charred fish in reverse, as if rewinding a consumed meal.

"Still, the work is fast."

As Dawson muttered, the ship under construction already appears half-finished within the dock.

Himena explains the reason.

"Components and equipment usable from the wreckage were already fully restored. We only needed to assemble them according to the design. Besides, it is a small vessel, so the construction process is minimal."

"Restored SU equipment—was that part of the analysis process?"

It was also that way. The dock’s artificial intelligences complained of idleness, so I ordered them to perform repairs. Once repairs were complete, they complained again of idleness, so I ordered them to devise improvement and development plans. If the plans were acceptable, I ordered them to begin prototyping.

Himena clapped her hands, satisfied.

"In such routine tasks, suddenly receiving a substantial project—building an entirely new hull—has greatly pleased the artificial intelligences. They are working with enthusiasm, which is why the work progresses efficiently."

Apparently, the dock’s artificial intelligences were highly diligent.

Dawson was about to express admiration when he suddenly realized.

"Wait. Are the devices installed in the ship actually the improved versions?"

"Wait, is that unacceptable? The performance has improved significantly. Safety has been verified by the artificial intelligences."

Performance improvement itself is not unacceptable. But if that ship were captured and analyzed, wouldn’t it raise suspicion about Amato Imperial Japan’s involvement?

No problem. The materials used are all from SU. There is no indication of a specific modifier’s name. There is no risk of revealing Amato Imperial Japan’s involvement. Even if analyzed, they would only assume they got a high-performance batch.

Dawson hesitated, then accepted the technician’s assurance that there was no issue.

“How long until the ship is ready?”

It should be done in one or two days. For full certainty, two days would be preferable.

Then I’ll come back in forty-eight hours?

That’s fine. Do you have other business elsewhere?

I’ll jump from the Amato Arm to the Orion Arm in two days. I won’t be able to communicate properly, so I want to inform the orphanage that raised me that I’ve graduated and received immediate orders for transfer.

If that’s the case, it’d be better to relay the message through the official mission assigned to Lieutenant Dawson.

What’s my official mission?

Evaluating whether tactics and strategies accumulated since the past remain usable in the present. Assigned to the Tactical Strategy Compilation Division.

…Sounds like a desk job.

It’s a department created as a cover for those assigned to special missions. Only a few elderly personnel, collecting pensions while working, actually occupy it. If you truly needed to re-evaluate tactics and strategies, artificial intelligence could handle it in moments.

Dawson smiles faintly at the perfectly idle post.

"If they knew I was assigned here, my peer would be delighted. That insolent orphan thinks he's been shoved into a future of utter darkness."

"…Are all of Special Lieutenant's peers faceless?"

"Only one from each of the imperial, ducal, and marquess families. Just a fool who thought he'd gain favor by backing the drum-beaters. Not all were foolish. Some of the sensible ones weren't even from the imperial line."

"What about the ducal and marquess children mentioned earlier?"

"The ducal child was fiercely competitive. Rumor had it they returned to the ducal household in tears every time they lost to me. The marquess son devoted himself entirely to maintaining third place, behind me and the imperial heir. Either way, neither had backbone."

"Harsh words."

"The imperial heir—Akatsuki, that's his name—was someone who appreciated my presence as a rival, competing at full strength. Those who didn't, well, they lacked substance."

When Dawson mentioned Akatsuki's name, Himena's eyes widened.

"An imperial Akatsuki-sama? Isn't that the current Emperor's child! Dawson Special Lieutenant, you're close to him!?"

"Close isn't quite right. We were rivals—first and second place. More like opponents in a fight."

"Envious. A good peer. Akatsuki-sama's exquisite face. I'd like to see it up close."

Himena seemed to be one of the many citizens of Amato Imperial Japan who held strong affection for the imperial family.

Dawson did not understand the sentiment of closeness simply because someone was imperial. But with Akatsuki, he acknowledged the man's ability. He could accept that kind of respect.

Akatsuki was supposed to have been reassigned to the battleship Ō-Hotaka. The opportunity to see the petty officer assigned to this dock—perhaps only when the battleship Ō-Hotaka undergoes maintenance here and the officer disembarks from the ship.

"Got it. The battleship Ō-Hotaka. I'll check which of the docks here in Wago-Yama the ship enters and keep an eye out!"

Having received Akatsuki's information, Himena willingly took on oversight of the shipbuilding operations.

Dawson left the dock without hesitation and headed toward the station’s public access zone, then contacted the orphanage.

After informing the orphanage director of his official graduation from the Officer Academy and his assigned duty post, Dawson stayed two nights in a station lodging facility.

During those two nights, Dawson occasionally saw his peers boarding battleships and spacecraft within the station.

Battleships ranged from dreadnoughts to destroyers. After new officers boarded, a grand fleet review was held near the station, followed by departure to their assigned posts.

Spacecraft, meanwhile, departed together with other civilian passengers toward one of the stars or artificial habitats in the Amato Star Arm.

At this point, those who observed the scene understood. Those who boarded battleships were competent. Those transported by spacecraft were failures.

"Seen from that perspective, military personnel assigned to duty on Amato Imperial Japan's home planet are, at minimum, elite."

Some might even welcome the assignment to the home planet—no danger involved. Even if their future opportunities were limited, and advancement beyond current rank was unlikely.

Such a life, I’ll pass, thank you.

Dawson had been taught in the orphanage that those who excelled should rise to positions of authority. He had developed a preference for environments where talent could be fully utilized, even if dangerous, rather than allowed to wither in safety.

Given Dawson’s disposition, it was certain he would have submitted a transfer request—or resigned—if assigned to desk duty on the home planet.

“Never mind that,” he said. “Let’s go see my ship.”

Dawson carried his trunk and headed back toward Dock 4.

Upon entering the dock, he saw the ship on the other side of the surveillance window. Painted yellow, it sat in quiet readiness. Small in scale compared to the vastness of the dock, capable of building super-heavy vessels, it appeared diminutive. Yet, compared to the virtual model, the physical presence radiated a distinct, tangible force.

On the monitor, it appeared plump and solid. In person, it was robust and sturdy, conveying a sense of durability. The protruding jaw formed a jagged opening, resembling the mouth of a caterpillar, suggesting a menacing capability to latch onto other vessels. The propulsion unit at the rear was large and powerful. The hull armor was neatly aligned and glowed yellow.

Even discounting the assessment that he had roughly designed the vessel, Dawson found the ship deeply appealing.

As Dawson felt something akin to awe toward the ship, Himena approached quietly.

"Specialist Lieutenant. What do you think of the result?"

"Ah, no complaints. If they give us a vessel like this, there's no way I wouldn't commit to the mission."

"Good. Please pass along your praise to the artificial intelligences in the dock. This is the microphone."

Dawson takes the microphone Himeina offers and speaks into the dock.

‘Artificial intelligences, well done. Excellent work. My vocabulary cannot express this moment— I am trembling with emotion.’

Receiving Dawson’s words, the artificial intelligences seem flustered. The work machines shift restlessly, as if suppressing the awkwardness of praise.

Dawson interprets the movement as joy. He turns back to Himeina.

‘Once we board that vessel, this is the official start of our pirate mission aboard a privateer.’

‘Yes. But before the mission begins, we must assign the vessel’s acceptance mark and name.’

On the spatial projection monitor Himeina summons, a space for a thumbprint and a field for the ship’s name are displayed.

Dawson pressed his thumbprint onto the screen. He paused, then wrote the ship’s name.

The vessel stood out at first glance. Its most distinctive feature—Ship Name: "Mandible." That became the name of Dawson’s privateer.

"Ship Mandible? I thought you’d name it after a grouper. My guess was wrong."

"Would have been fine before seeing the real thing. Now, it doesn’t resemble a grouper at all."

"I see. Then, as of now, you’ve formally received the privateer. Proceed immediately to board and depart for Orion Arm. Your first destination is the TR (True Lights) sector. Navigation data has been uploaded to the ship’s AI control system. Refer to it for course guidance."

"Understood. Then, Lieutenant Dawson Ida, aboard the privateer Mandible, mission begins—"

Dawson began to declare the mission, his mood heightened, then stopped mid-sentence. He glanced sideways at Himena.

"Wait. You installed artificial intelligence in the hull control system? I thought there was no room. I designed it without AI, assuming the faceless processor preloaded in the fighter cockpit on the bridge would be sufficient?"

"Yes, sir. Since you had forgotten, I integrated it into the bridge navigation system. The core personality is set to a military diagnostic software with compatibility matching Lieutenant Colonel's temperament. You may rest assured."

"I knew the law. But Orion Arm pirates operate with small vessels. I assumed one person could manage such a craft. So I didn’t insist on including AI."

“That’s how it is. But that won’t work, Special Lieutenant. According to Amato Imperial Japan’s aerospace regulations, any vessel—no matter how small—must include artificial intelligence in its control systems. Military ships, pirate ships—same rule. Until you enter the Orion Arm from this station, you must follow Amato’s laws.”

“That’s correct. I have no argument there—but may I ask, where exactly did you install it?”

Himenā displayed on the monitor where she had placed it. The bridge, adapted from a space fighter cockpit. She had restructured the base framework, creating space within the ship’s architecture to integrate the artificial intelligence for ship control.

Dawson examined it. Ran diagnostic software. No faults detected. He could not argue further.

I should have reported the integration of unapproved components, but since you corrected our error, I should offer apologies and thanks. I am grateful. Thank you.

Dawson acknowledged his own design shortcomings and apologized. Himena replied with a smile, saying no, no.