ハイェラーキーンの銀河帝国

[Guest Supreme Gamesmaster]

As I doubt I need to say (the title was in gratuitous Japanese, c'mon...), imagine this story as a manga or anime.

[spoiler=Volume I]

[spoiler=Prologue: Terrorismivastane Sõda]

There were times when Lord-Minister Ersatz Venseng worried that far too much power was invested in the hands of the imperial court. The rest of the time, he was incapable of thinking.

 

One hundred eleven armed warships were gathered in orbit over the equatorial region of I'Oyafei III. Of those, paradoxially, only seventy-three ships were under the direct control of the Galactic Supreme Commander. Twenty-eight were his to control, even excluding the huge numbers of mecha and support craft attendant to twenty-eight frigates.

 

Lord Venseng was on the bridge of just one of them, the aptly-named Hospes Hospitibus; ironically, this was the least defended of all the craft in the area. The ship had been commissioned by the Empress herself to provide the Lord-Minister of Foreign Affairs with a diplomatic vehicle, and it suited his tastes nicely; its exterior was a bright red and white while its interior was austere, and the energy shields were heavy. It felt rather like home. He wasn't really sure why it had been equipped with an experimental engine, though; it seemed a bit counter-intuitive to show potential enemies the pinnacle of their technology.

 

Oh, well. She probably saw something he didn't.

 

The Epsilon Bridge (not the Alpha Bridge, obviously; putting a commander in the most prominent bridge was a terrible idea in such a poorly-armed craft) of the Hospes Hospitibus was a small, grey room, buried beneath all the myriad layers of armor the mighty warship provided. The entire crew had packed into this room for much the same reason he had; if the Lecorica Sector wanted to declare war, this was the safest place to be. Unfortunately, however, his had the rather obvious side effect of making the bridge extremely crowded. Forty-eight people had been forced to pile into the tiny room, and though most of them were trying to huddle back and take up less space, the circulated air was still thick and humid.

 

At the moment, Lord Venseng was poring over a communications console. Dozens of small blue dots were arrayed on the slanted table before him... and nothing else. Nevertheless, he was tense.

 

A bead of sweat dripped down into his dark helmet. As usual, he was dressed in his business clothes — an imposing black suit of powered armor that utterly obscured his every feature. If this weren't already how the public perceived the imperious Lord-Minister of Foreign Affairs, such attire would be a very bad idea, but as things stood, it would be an affront to his enemies if he were to show his face.

 

Not that they wouldn't recognize him, of course. The armor was only his business suit.

 

Finally, one of the blue dots began glowing. Lord Venseng immediately tapped it with a gauntlet-covered finger. The life-sized face of a plump older man appeared, suspended holographically in midair.

 

"My scouts are telling us the enemy diplomats will be arriving soon," the man said in a grave voice that might, if more buoyant, have belonged to Santa Claus. The Lord-Minister smirked.

 

"At long last," he gloated with a booming, imperious voice, "we'll be able to see just what they want. Thank you for accompanying me, Supreme Commander," he added.

 

"You're welcome," the Supreme Commander acknowledged. "Let's just hope they have demands. Some people just want to watch the world burn..."

 

Where have I heard that before? Venseng thought, vaguely frustrated. One of the Information Age classics, I know... He abandoned his thought process as the Supreme Commander finished his sentence.

 

"...and I really wouldn't put it past Lord Taswol to be one of those people." Lord Venseng had to heartily agree with that statement. Lord Taswol seemed to think he was living life as an ancient noble rather than a modern one, and an ancient noble didn't necessarily have moral standards.

 

His doubts on the amount of power bestowed on single people began to plague him again.

 

"It seems they're within interception range," the Commander warned.

 

"Understood. Thank you, Commander Jeff." The armored man nodded and tapped the blue button again; the Commander's face disappeared.

 

I still can't get over that name. Lothegmi is common enough in the Senecron Sector, but... Jeff? How has the Jeff family stayed alive for the last two and a half centuries?

 

By acting like Lothegmi, I presume. The Supreme Commander had not been a poor choice; the Empress was excellent at divining the power of obscure choices like Lothegmi.

 

And him, Venseng supposed. Not many people would appoint a twenty-eight-year-old as the Lord-Minister of Foreign Affairs. The Empress's own age and obscurity helped, he'd decided. There weren't many who could unify a warring galaxy at the age of eleven.

 

Another blue button lit up. Venseng tapped it immediately, and a miniaturized hologram of a large, red-and-gold-adorned room appeared before the armored messenger.

 

"Greetings," he boomed. The message started before Lecorica's ships were visible; this was a typical communication practice among harried messengers, who would only arrive in their diplomatic vessel after the message had already been sent. Predictably, Lord Taswol had sent a messenger instead of coming himself. Oh, well.

 

The crew in the messenger's large, red-and-gold communications room was much more sparse, but the few that were present obviously hadn't expected the Lord-Minister to arrive in person. He smirked beneath his armor. His presence had been designed as a warning — as had the hundred warships in the vicinity.

 

His presence essentially told the Lecoricans, we suspect this message is of vital importance to the Empire. That extended into we suspect that you're up to something disreputable with the Galactic Supreme Commander's presence. If Lord Taswol didn't want to declare war, he would be forced to obey the Empress a bit more closely.

 

"Lord-Minister Venseng." The messenger himself was much more composed than his attendants. He bowed quickly, then said, "You know what we came for, then?"

 

"We assume," the armored man said blithely, "that Lord Taswol, fed up with being subjected to the whims of the young, female Empress Hierachine and her standards of noble honor, has decided to make the spectacularly idiotic move of secession from the Galactic Empire, possibly allying with the Asteroid Federation or Andred Stellar Citadel." The profiling had been in much more detail, and indeed much more interesting, but he was present as a messenger, not a prodigious student of psychology.

 

"Of course, we are assuming the worst," he added, not wishing to offend Lord Taswol any further. Though he himself was easy to control, every civilian in the Lecorica Sector would be wrested from the economic and military prosperity of the Galactic Empire if Taswol really had decided to secede. He didn't like considering what would happen to innocent, loyal civilians should Supreme Commander Jeff decide to invade. "We can only hope that we are wrong."

 

"We hate to disappoint you," the messenger said tersely, "but you are exactly right. We will retreat for now, but from this moment on, we are a part of the Asteroid Federation, and any attempt by Empress Hierachine to control the Lecorica Sector will be met with force." The message was terminated, and the holographic projection of the Lecorica messenger vanished.

 

It occurred suddenly to Veseng that he'd never even seen the enemy fleet. That was... rather dishonorable of them. It was also quite dangerous for him and everyone on board; there was no guarantee Lord Taswol wasn't sending a war fleet to attack them.

 

He tapped a third blue button. A number of holograms surrounded him, all of men and women in grey rooms.

 

"All forces," he ordered, "cover our retreat. The Supreme Commander's forces should help. We could have a war fleet en route from Lecorica at this minute."

 

A long chain of affirmative phrases ensued as the frigate operators agreed to his orders. They understood that the Hospes Hospitibus was basically the only ship in orbit with actual people on board. Modern frigates were generally unmanned, piloted from planetside and maintained by robots.

 

"We should retreat," Venseng warned his own team. "Head straight back to planetside. The others are coming around us." Several crouching crew members rose, voiced their alacrity, and dashed off to their control panels.

 

Glancing aside at the screen of relative locations, the Lord-Minister was immediately taken aback by his ship's speed. Huge amounts of energy were pouring out of the pill-shaped vessel. Suddenly, he realized why the Empress wanted to test the engine on a diplomatic vessel — the energy output might even damage the weapon systems aboard a warship, even if enough energy was available between the thrusters and the warship.

 

Then again, there was also the possibility that she had only installed the engine in anticipation of an offensive maneuver like this.

 

A blue button lit up; he tapped it. The Supreme Commander had returned.

 

"The enemy fleet is retreating," he said pleasantly. "It seems they set their course away from here shortly after the message terminated."

 

"It would seem Lord Taswol still retains some honor," Venseng murmured darkly before changing the topic. "My orders are probably going to be to return to the Imperatrix. I seriously doubt Hierachine will want to keep me here long."

 

Supreme Commander Jeff nodded in agreement. "I don't doubt it." He smiled knowingly. "She doesn't like the possibility of your danger."

 

"She can tell me that when she improves her own guard." Though the Empress's massive flagship, the aforementioned Imperatrix, was the most powerful starship in existence, its guardians were pitifully few compared to the tens of thousands of ships allocated to the (redundant) military.

 

"Yes," Jeff said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I bet she's going to do that real soon. Well, you'd better get going, then. Take your ships."

 

"Eleven will do," Veseng sighed. "Call it payback." The commander smirked and nodded.

 

He contacted his frigates again. "One through eleven," he sorted, "come with me; we're to return to the Imperatrix. The rest of you are being transferred to Supreme Commander Jeff's command. Understood?"

 

He rocketed out of the gravity well to a chorus of affirmatives.

 

 

[spoiler=Prologue's Author Note]

As usual, the prologue is non-indicative. This is really a gender-flipped Maho Sensei Negima! IN SPACE, except where Negi is the empress of the galaxy instead of a mage child. Mmyeah.

 

The war provides all the drama, but this will mostly be a comedy. The prologue existed only to create the setting.

 

IDK why the title is in bad Estonian.

 

 

 

 

 

[spoiler=The Cast Thus Far]

Empress Catalina Hierachine I (ハイェラーキーンカタリーナ, Haierākīn Katarīna): The Empress of the Galactic Empire. Despite the Empress's usual position as easily manipulated figurehead, she has a deceptive amount of power and applies it with terrifying audacity and efficiency, especially considering her age of twelve.

 

Lord-Minister Ersatz Venseng (ヴェンセングアーザツ, Vensengu Āzatsu): Lord-Minister of Foreign Affairs in the Galactic Empire. Though his office is usually a weak one, given the Empire's status as galactic hegemon, his political savvy has let him gain far more power than deserved. However, he tends to be self-deprecating, so we shouldn't really trust the narrative so far; he's obviously considered quite competent and deserving of power by others.

 

Galactic Supreme Commander Lothegmi Jeff (ジェフロセグミ, Jefu Rosegumi): In name, he's the leader of all military forces in the galactic empire. However, Lord-Minister Venseng has a great deal of sway ove rhis forces.

 

Lord Fingrin Taswol (タズオールフィングリン, Tazuōru Fingurin): The Lord of Lecorica Sector is a man who hopes to usurp Empress Hierachine despite her ridiculous military. While his alliance with the Oort-Asteroid Federation gives his alliance an economic edge, the war is expected to be one-sided in the Empire's favor. Needless to say, he's a villain.

 

Asteroid Federation Civil Service Council (小惑星のフェデレーションの市民サービス委員会, Shōwakusei no Federēshon no Shimin Sābisu Iin Kai): The leaders of the Asteroid Federation. They've apparently accepted

 

 

[spoiler=Important Regions]

I'Oyafei III, or I'Oyafei - The closest imperial colony to the Lecorica Sector and the only colony orbiting I'Oyafei. Currently under heavy defense.

Sol III, or Earth, or Zerth, or Terra - The capital of the Galactic Empire. The common name can be "Earth," "Zerth," or "Terra," depending on the dialect of the speaker.

Lecorica Sector - A star cluster currently controlled by the Asteroid Federation. It's a very tense region, but by the Empress's orders, the Empire isn't invading it.

 

 

[bury the year]

Your Japanese is horrible. Give me a sec; I'll get translations.

 

And can I expect an epic space opera from you? :0

[Guest Supreme Gamesmaster]

I'm glad you noticed. :D

 

No; no you can't.

[bury the year]

I'm glad you noticed. :D

 

[spoiler=inorite? I had to butcher and splice together half of the honorifics in order to make them fit the English-themed setting' date= but that's Japanese for you.]

 

Empress Catalina Hierachine I -> カタリーナ・ハイェラーキーン初代目女王様 (Katarīna Haierākīn-shodaime-joou-sama)

 

Lord-Minister Ersatz Venseng -> アーザツ・ヴェンセング侯使 (Āzatsu Vensengu-koushi)

 

Lord Fingrin Taswol -> フィングリン・タズオール侯 (Fingurin Tazuōru-kou)

 

Galactic Supreme Commander Lothegmi Jeff -> ロセグミ・ジェフ宇大将 (Rosegumi Jefu-udaishou)

 

Asteroid Federation Civil Service Council -> 小惑星連邦公務員委員会 (Shouwakusei Renpou Koumuin Iinkai)

 

[Davok]

Loved the prologue. Though I can't review, and I don't really have any more comments other than that I liked it, so that's it for now.

[Guest Supreme Gamesmaster]

@Rinne: Oh, don't worry. Thanks for the translations, but the question wasn't "Is it good enough?," but "Is it bad enough?"

 

Half the reason this exists it to parody the people who would use bad Japanese for the hell of it (fanfic writers, free OF writers, weeaboos...).

 

@Davok: Uh, thanks.