Negotiations—well, communications—did go smoothly. It seemed that he (the tetrahedron) had extracted more from the unconscious soldiers than just the knowledge required to communicate with us. He had a general idea of who we were and why we’d come here.
‹You are interested in the structure of our carapaces. We are prepared to provide the information you desire.›
“That makes things easy. But I’m sure you don’t plan to just hand over that information for free, right?”
‹Affirmative. First, we demand the immediate release of our all-purpose work units, which you refer to as “spheres.”›
“That sounds reasonable to me. What do you think, Colonel?”
“Demand acknowledged. However, it would be troublesome for us if those spider things started rampaging in transit. I request that you ask them to return to their sphere state until we finish transporting them out.”
The tetrahedron couldn’t hear Colonel Serena’s voice, so I had to act as their translator. It was honestly annoying, but it wasn’t as if we had any other options.
‹Understood. We have another demand. Beings of the same species as you—the ones you refer to as “space pirates”—have stolen an important relic from us. We request that you retrieve it.›
This was an unexpected development. We knew that pirates had done some treasure hunting on Riche III, since we’d retrieved several spheres from their base, but I didn’t expect them to have stolen a valuable relic from Mr. Tetrahedron.
“We’ll do our best to retrieve it. But shouldn’t it have been easy for you to drive them off, given how strong you are?”
‹Negative. The space pirates were equipped with primitive weapons that fired metallic objects at high velocity. We lack methods to protect ourselves against such attacks. In addition, our security unit has become inoperable due to low energy efficiency and long-term deterioration. We therefore lack an effective means of attack. We have another demand.›
“One after the other, eh? What is it?”
‹We wish to be provided with what you refer to as “spirit silver,” or other materials with similar properties.›
Oh. Now, that’s a tough one. The tetrahedron’s first two requests had been simple enough for Colonel Serena to accept. She had planned to release the spheres anyway, if a mutual understanding was achieved; hunting pirates was also her job to begin with. But supplying a large amount of spirit silver or “materials with similar properties”—which meant psionic amplification materials—was a tall order.
“A more detailed negotiation will be required to fulfill your third demand,” said Colonel Serena. “We need to know the requested amount, and—if you want us to provide a long-term supply—what you can offer in exchange. But the demand itself shouldn’t be too much of a problem under my authority. We can provide you with what we have on hand right now as a deposit.”
Ah. She probably plans to hand over the spirit silver stored in the Lestarius’s research lab. There’s a bit more where that came from being kept on the Black Lotus. They’ll probably ask for that too.
‹Understood. I assure you in advance that we possess assets valuable enough to warrant your continued expenditure of resources.›
It seemed that Mr. Tetrahedron had a few aces up his sleeve. If he wants a continuous supply of materials, he’ll definitely find a method to achieve that. From what I sense, he’s way smarter than I am.
“This is your translator speaking. I can’t do this forever—nor do I want to—so I request that you immediately come up with a way to communicate with each other without my help.”
“Very well.”
‹Understood.›
Mr. Tetrahedron had seemingly acquired a lot of knowledge from Serena’s subordinates, so they could probably figure out a method of communication that didn’t depend on thought waves. In the worst-case scenario, they could just use a specialized tablet terminal to send messages.
✦ ✦ ✦
“I expected things would come to this.”
“Stop complaining.”
Roughly thirty minutes had passed since I’d been released from my vital role as Mr. Tetrahedron’s personal translator. I was now griping in the Krishna’s cargo bay. Next to me was Colonel Serena, who still wore her knight-like power armor; an army of power armor-equipped Imperial marines filled the rest of the chamber. It was packed. The train—I mean, spaceship—was at 100 percent capacity. Is it rush hour right now or something? In a way, it was essentially rush hour.
“It’s not like I’m asking you to actively participate in physical combat. Requesting that you give us a lift isn’t crossing the line.”
“Can I hold you to that? You don’t need my help at all with combat, right?”
The white knight armor tilted its head slyly. “…It would be really nice of you to help us out a little.”
Not cute at all. “So you are asking me to participate. Well, fine…but I have a condition.”
“I’m listening.”
“My condition is that I want to attack the base by myself from a different direction.”
This would be a good opportunity to get used to physical combat in my ninja armor. I also wanted to practice the telekinesis I’d learned from Konoha. If things went poorly, and I had to retreat, Colonel Serena could clean up after me. That made this a perfect opportunity to get some training in.
“No way. Although they’re only space pirates, that’s far too dangerous.”
Colonel Serena approached me in her white knight armor, then stared at me point-blank. Our helmets practically touched, like the heads of lovers, yet I felt nothing. The chest plating on our suits merely clanged loudly when the plates glanced against each other.
“My fighting style makes it impossible to coordinate with your marines,” I insisted. “It’s better for me to act as a distraction by attacking at a separate entrance. You can use that opportunity to launch your assault. That will make things simpler, right?”
“Yes, but…”
“I made this decision on my own, so Elma and the others won’t get on your case about it.”
In the past, Colonel Serena would immediately have agreed without argument, but Elma’s words earlier had been a little too effective; the colonel had seemingly taken them to heart.
“…Very well. Please be careful.”
“Of course.”
I had no intention of dying pathetically. Heh. This’ll be a piece of cake.