56. Surrender Proposal

Central command chamber of the flagship Metresie, flagship of the Grand Arze Empire’s G013 System Advance Force, commanded by Admiral Marko.

"Admiral, the two probes we launched toward the uncharted planet have both disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Our sensors lost both probes simultaneously. Signal from the probes has ceased entirely. It appears they were physically erased, not malfunctioning."

"Understood."

Admiral Marko closes his eyes in the command seat.

A planet six light-years ahead, its surface entirely sheathed in an unknown metal—perhaps not a planet at all, but some other kind of celestial body. And the metal covering it remains, even now, beyond our analytical reach. And two probes, sent toward it, vanished simultaneously.

The third planet—Earth—has been confirmed as the native intelligent species of this stellar system, newly embarked on interstellar expansion, with an evolutionary level estimated at approximately two. Yet can we truly conclude that Earthlings are the only inhabitants within this system? Speaking of which, perhaps the planetary survey vessel of the vanished Survey Ministry didn’t meet its end in an accident after all. Now, regretfully, we realize we sent a fleet into a system that hasn’t even undergone primary survey.

Should there exist, on this unknown celestial body, a civilization at evolutionary level five—so advanced that we are utterly powerless against them—the consequences could extend beyond this fleet’s annihilation and threaten the Empire itself. Misjudging this situation now would be catastrophic.

If the lifeform dwelling in this enigmatic celestial body is assumed to be at evolutionary level five, it should naturally be aware of Earth—and capable of understanding Earth’s languages.

Though the analysis of languages proved cumbersome due to the sheer number of tongues spoken on Earth, progress has reached a point where translation is feasible for the major languages; for the most data-rich of these, simultaneous interpretation is already possible.

Given that the other party is at evolutionary level five, we’ve likely already been detected. Perhaps we should attempt to contact them using Earth’s primary languages. Their hyperspace communication protocol remains unknown, but if they’re at level five, they should be able to decode our hyperspace transmissions. Let’s try sending a message. If that fails, we can always resort to Earth’s standard radio communication methods.

They’ve shown no reaction to our previous active probes, so a directional signal shouldn’t be interpreted as an attack.

That said, I do have full authority over the third planet—but this matter is beyond my capacity. I should consult the home fleet’s command, but do I have the time?

“Admiral, a communication has arrived from the Fleet Command. Connecting you now.”

While pondering the situation, the fleet itself has received a signal from the distant command. The observational data gathered by the fleet is automatically relayed to the central command at regular intervals, so they’re already aware of our circumstances. Perhaps the matter concerns the unknown celestial body? Lately, I’ve had nothing but bad omens—and this time, the unease is palpable. It’s unlikely, but if they’re ordering an immediate retreat, I’d welcome it. But that’s not what they’ll say, is it?

"This is the Imperial Space Fleet General Staff. Colonel Maruko, an imperial edict has been issued directly from the Emperor to the dispatched fleet. The directive reads: 'Subjugate Planet Three with all possible haste. Means are not restricted, provided the planetary environment is not destroyed.' That is all."

The transmission cut off abruptly, delivering only that message before we could even inquire about details or context. Even the General Staff seemed thrown into disarray by the sudden edict.

Ignore the unknown celestial body before us and conquer Earth? Subjugate it without even bringing along a proper assault force? Is this a request to obliterate Earth’s inhabitants with orbital bombardment? True, any use of artillery would inevitably damage the planet’s environment—though, well, it’s not as if that matters much. If sheer intimidation alone could force Earth to surrender, that would be convenient, but realistically… unlikely.

What exactly is Your Majesty so flustered about? Still, once the decree has been issued, conquering Earth must take precedence. Fortunately, it seems the unknown celestial body is showing no active resistance—so we might as well gamble on it ignoring our actions entirely.

“Fleet, commence advance toward Planet Three—Earth. For intimidation purposes, initiate a fusion-bomb strike on Earth’s moon. Set the detonation time to occur twenty-four hours after the transmission reaches Earth, measured in Earth time. All vessels, prepare for attack.”

Having relayed the order to the fleet under command, he issued further instructions to the fleet’s chief of staff.

“Dispatch the surrender ultimatum to Earth’s major nations, as scheduled.”

Five minutes later, an abrupt, final-demand-style message was transmitted toward Earth.

“This is the Arze Fleet, dispatched to the Sol system. To all nations on Earth: resistance is futile. Surrender. If no reply is received within seventy-two hours, the Great Arze Empire will act freely against Earth. Regardless of whether a response is received, a show of force will be conducted against the Moon twenty-four hours later. The method of surrender is….”

The transmission would reach Earth in three hours—though one might hope for a more straightforward acceptance.

“Course, planet three. After turning around, the fleet will accelerate to first combat speed.”

Fifteen minutes after the Arze Fleet issued its ultimatum to Earth, with no negotiations, no preamble.

“Commander, a hyperspace transmission in Arze language has been received from an unknown planet. It uses our hyperspace communication protocol.”

The staff officer reporting it seemed, from the corner of my eye, to have gone slightly pale. I suspect I looked the same. Not good. Better tighten up.

I’d assumed some kind of action would come from the unknown celestial body—except now it’s speaking our language, and has already parsed our hyperspace communication protocol. What the hell are we supposed to do about this?

“Route the transmission to us. Temporarily halt the satellite intimidation.”