HEAVY OBJECT:Volume3 Chapter 2

Status: Incomplete

Chapter 2: A Coal Mine that Scatters Stacks of Cash >> Nighttime Surprise Blitzkrieg on the Kamchatka Peninsula

Part 1

The CS☆Military Channel!!

“This is Monica, your battlefield idol reporter who can both sing and kill! Today, I have come to the Legitimacy Kingdom military’s 37th Mobile Maintenance Battalion!! Today’s theme is the women who work in the militaries of the world!! There was a time when militaries were filled almost exclusively with men as an extension of our history of kings and knights, but that is in the past!! I want to see the true faces of the female commanders and Elites who work on the front lines of modern battlefields!!”

The cute, youthful voice of a girl rang throughout the nighttime maintenance base zone.

“What? What’s going on?”

When Heivia stuck his head out from the barracks trailer, he spotted an entertainer who was lit up by powerful lights and surrounded by cameras.

“…A comsat broadcast? What’s this battlefield reporter crap? She’s speaking as stiffly as some swimsuit idol.”

“Oh, Heivia. I thought you would be the type to breathe more heavily the closer you got to someone like that,” said Froleytia as she approached on her way back from a cold night walk.

Heivia shrugged.

“It’s different when I have to help protect them. Should we really let them do that? We’re planning this night mission, but they’re shining those lights everywhere.”

“Just inside the base. It’s not like we’re going to let them perform a live broadcast of our invasion. The actual battlefield is a good ways from here. And we have to worry about how people view the military.”

“Hah?”

“The media has always been quite powerful. If they can make an amusing show, we might get more new recruits and people might not get so angry about how their tax money is being spent. …Of course, the rookies drawn in by the smile of that swimsuit idol will have no idea how much hard work awaits them.”

“I guess it’s better than mobilizing to help film an action movie.”

“Exactly.” Froleytia put her long, narrow kiseru in her mouth. “And I am about to be interviewed.”

“Thanks for everything you do for the military and our nation…”

“Yes. Did you hear what the show’s theme is, Heivia? It’s about the women working in the military world. Women in the military are so commonplace these days that I have no idea what purpose there is in this.”

“I see. Well, I’d rather not get chosen as the example of the worthless male soldier to compare to the wonderful female officer, so I’ll be leaving.”

“You should really just use who you can and not use who you can’t without worrying about whether their men or women,” muttered Froleytia as she cracked her neck. Then she seemed to remember something. “Oh, right. Heivia, the restriction on the caffeine supply is being released in another 2 hours. When the time comes, get everyone in the barracks up and force some painfully hot coffee down their throats.”

“…If you don’t give proper time for sleep, it’ll just make everyone sleepier.”

“Let them sleep even if for only 5 minutes more or even just 10 seconds more. Our mission will head straight through the night this time.” She grabbed her long, narrow kiseru between two fingers and used it to point into the distant darkness. “A nighttime surprise blitzkrieg. This isn’t a mission we can leave to tired eyes.”

Part 2

Meanwhile, Quenser was in the Baby Magnum’s maintenance area.

The old maintenance lady was making preliminary preparations and Quenser was studying the Object, but then Quenser frowned at a noise from outside the maintenance area.

“…Is something going on out there?”

“Froleytia said they were filming a television show,” answered the Elite princess.

In preparation for the nighttime mission, most of the soldiers who did not have guard duty had gone to sleep early. However, the old lady and the other maintenance soldiers had to work to prepare the Object in time rather than rest. But the maintenance soldiers would have a chance to relax once the mission began and the Object left, so it was not necessary to regulate their sleep time.

Speaking of which…

“You’re the most important part of this nighttime mission, princess. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I will be fine. Also, I am most relaxed when sitting in the cockpit seat.”

“Is that so?” muttered Quenser.

Quenser could not imagine what a pilot like her would look like sleeping. The only image that came to mind was her lying down while still wearing that special suit of hers.

“…Shouldn’t you be sleeping, Quenser?”

“Technically, I’m a student rather than a proper soldier. Apparently, I won’t be sent to the front lines of a delicate blitzkrieg like this. I’ll still be sent to the battlefield for logistical support, but it isn’t something I need to be too focused for.”

The old maintenance lady then clanked a wrench against the handrail.

“Really, now. Whether you’re on the front lines or in a safe country, a bullet will kill you just as dead. You shouldn’t let your guard down so long as you’re in a war.”

“Yeah, but there’s a risk of your heart stopping even when you masturbate. It’s rare, but it happens. Thinking too much about that kind of thing isn’t going to help.”

“Masturbate?” said the princess in puzzlement, but Quenser looked down at his handheld device to check on the status of the motors that opened and closed the barriers.

He was standing at a point near the upper surface of the Object. Bright sparks were flying from some welding on a level lower than him.

“This monstrous weapon can withstand a nuclear strike, but its armor is put on with normal welding and bolts, isn’t it?”

“Maintaining its strength is important, but it’s also necessary to make sure quick maintenance can be carried out on the battlefield. Apparently, even racecar pit stops are used as experimental grounds for Object designs. …I’m sure you learned that well enough in the Alaska district before, didn’t you, boy?”

With that comment, the old maintenance lady sent an email to Quenser’s handheld device over the local network. The message notification covered up the maintenance diagram.

Quenser looked up, but the old lady shook her head and went back to work. She was telling him to read the email for details.

He opened the message and found a list of various materials with numbers next to them. The primary item on the list was welding gas. She seemed to be telling him to get the materials they were lacking.

“(…Tch. Why do they always give me odd jobs that have nothing to do with Object design?)”

“Did you say something, boy?”

“What point was there in the email!? You were close enough to just tell me!!”

Still grumbling, Quenser finished with what he was doing and headed for the staircase attached to the scaffolding. Partway there, he noticed the princess’s shoulders were trembling.

“…Quenser, you exchanged email addresses with the old lady?”

“Why are you looking at me like I’m some kind of indiscriminate beast?” asked Quenser.

He then added, “You’re the only one I love, baby,” but she turned away and headed back for the cockpit. It seemed he had been rejected. His luck that day was so poor he felt like he would hit the bartender’s prized cactus if he tried to play darts in a bar.

He headed for ground level using the staircase that circled around again and again. This seemed a silly way to get up and down since the Object was over 50 meters tall, but a battlefield student like Quenser did not have the authority to use the elevator. He had grown to hate more athletic people.

The maintenance area was pretty chilly, but a blast of cold air stabbed at him when he opened the door.

Quenser contemplated just staying in the maintenance area, but he had no choice but to head crying out into the cold when he saw the hate-filled gazes he was getting that seemed to be saying, “Just get out and close the door!! You’re getting us cold, too!!”

He checked the list of materials as he walked along.

(…Ugh, this is too much to take in one trip. Maybe I should get a battlefield license like Heivia has. Then I could use a military tractor.)

The problem was that any time spent on that would be better spent studying Object design.

(Also, that old woman works people too hard. If I got a license, I bet she’d just shove more odd jobs on me. Maybe the easier-sounding option is actually more dangerous.)

As Quenser trudged through the thick snow on his way to the storehouse, he wondered if a sled would work better than a dolly. In fact, the storehouse was constructed atop a large vehicle itself, so he truly wished it could just be brought to him.

But suddenly…

“You there.”

Someone called out to him.

Quenser turned around and found a woman in a military uniform approaching him. She was in her early twenties. He did not recognize her. She had glossy brown hair that was contrasted by her skin which was white as snow. More than 800 people belonged to the battalion, so it was not surprising to run across someone you did not know. However, this woman was still odd.

Her uniform was different.

While Quenser’s uniform was based on a camouflage matched to the environment, the woman’s was a luxurious uniform of primarily black with gold hemming. Her rimless glasses gave an intelligent impression, but she had an odd air of intimidation that went beyond a mere intellectual. Below, she wore a tight black skirt, but it seemed to be primarily for decoration. She wore tights so thick they were not much different from pants. She had medals and decorations Quenser did not recognize on her bountiful chest. She was clearly someone important from first glance, but it also seemed that someone that glittered that much would get shot right away on an actual battlefield.

She had a rank insignia on her collar, but the plate was dyed red for some reason.

The woman brought both her white-glove-covered hands to her mouth and breathed her white breath on them as she stood before Quenser. Her uniform was intimidating, but that feminine action managed to shine through.

Quenser was completely taken aback, so he just gave voice to his first impression.

“Um…Are you a noble?”

“No, I am a commoner. That has given me various difficulties. But you are the one that matters here. I assume you do not mind if I ask you a few questions.”

“No…”

“Let me confirm something. All soldiers with the exception of the guards, the official members of the Baby Magnum’s maintenance team, and the pilot Elite herself are to be on standby in the barracks. I believe you were ordered to get as much sleep as possible before the pre-mission briefing in two hours.”

“Y-yes!?”

(Oh, crap! She’s the strict class president type!!)

Quenser put himself on maximum guard. He had been helping out with the Object’s maintenance, but he was not an “official member” of the maintenance team. He was a battlefield student and his technical designation was “combat engineer”.

“No, um!! I’m sorry!! But I was requested to bring in these materials for the maintenance soldiers! Once I finish that, I will head to the barracks!!”

“What is your unit and rank?”

“…Eh?”

Quenser raised a questioning voice, but not because he had not understood what she meant. It was because the woman in the black uniform had approached close enough to kiss him and had drawn a ceremonial revolver from her waist at some point. Quenser then felt something hard press against his stomach.

With a slight smile, the woman asked once more.

“What is your unit and rank?”

At that moment, Quenser spotted the unit insignia on the woman’s shoulder. It was different from Quenser’s.

That meant…

(She clearly isn’t part of our unit! Wait…I’m always gotten by with just saying I’m a student, but what’s my technical rank!? I remember there being some kind of pain-in-the-ass term written on the official documents, but if I get this wrong…bang!!)

Quenser started to panic.

Despite the gun being a double action so she could simply pull the trigger, the woman used her thumb to raise the hammer, making an obvious metallic click.

With a strangely calm voice, she said, “Your unit and rank.”

“I-I’m a student! A battlefield student! I know I’m designated as a combat engineer, but it’s a bit unclear what unit in the battalion I actually belong to! Sometimes Heivia and I make the old maintenance lady mad so she lectures us!!”

Quenser’s confused answer made it seem he had a death wish, but the woman in the black uniform clicked her tongue and stepped away like a carnivorous beast that had lost its prey.

“A student, hm? Too bad. Then you aren’t under my jurisdiction.”

“?”

The woman in the black uniform purposefully aimed the gun at Quenser once more and slowly lowered the revolver’s hammer with her thumb.

“Bang,” she muttered jokingly. “My barrier duty is meant for the proper soldiers.”

Part 14

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