My name is Princess Burnheart, at the service of the Merikan people. We have a strategic problem.

Sir Grey is a formidable and incredibly easygoing weapon. Alas, his power cannot reach Washington.

It is possible for him to sail 10,000 miles and project his power, but our navy is not sufficient to escort him all the way there. We may have shipbuilding facilities, but we only have seven fighting ships at the moment—nine if we include the Japanese ships, but I doubt the Emperor’s retainers would allow their ships to become mere fodder for our war. As such, our current fleet cannot contend with the north’s Atlantic Fleet, which has eighteen fighting ships. It will take many more years to build up the Merikan Pacific Fleet, and I doubt that my father will not be building his fleet as well.

Moreover, if the other factions discover that Sir Grey has left port, they will attack believing that his cannons can no longer reach them. We may have dragon riders and knights, but I do not wish even the slightest chance to invite an attack—there are methods to fight dragon riders and knights, and that is not to speak of the possibility that either the north or the south do not already have their own dragon forces. Rather, that possibility is quite high.

***

I am presently in an office in the city’s governor’s mansion. It is a wooden mansion that much reminds me of the royal vacation home. Of course, this place is not constantly defended by 20 black mages and innumerable turrets-automata, but being surrounded by 100,000 soldiers brings about the same effect.

Of course, I did not want to be rude to the governor, and so I did not take over his office. I am in an office reserved for accounting staff, but since the governor was engaged in tax fraud, this place had not seen much use. Of course, he is firmly in my pocket for the same reason.

 

There is a knock on the door.

 

“Enter.”

One of my attendants shows her face. She is in chainmail, greaves, arm guards, pauldrons—you, I hired you as a secretary. Why are you like this?

“Princess, you have a visitor by the name of Margarita Colada. Shall I turn them away?” she says, pushing the dagger on her waist by an inch with her thumb, exposing a part of the poisoned blade.

There is a sadistic expression on her face. You were such a nice girl, what happened to you?

“Margarita Colada? I know this person. Let them in.”

“Tch…”

“What was that?”

“Right away, princess.”

She bows and closes the door. Moments later, the door opens, and I see an interesting person. With corset, dress, and parasol, she enters and closes the door behind her.

Her habit of holding a parasol indoors is still with her, I see.

We make eye contact. As the seconds draw longer, her eyes sparkle ever brighter.

“B-b-b-bestieee!”

She throws her parasol aside and flies straight towards me, wrapping me in embrace. Luckily for her, I am absurdly strong, and so I am not knocked back.

“What’chya been up to! Where’ve you been?! Hm? It—it smells like a man…”

She looks at me strangely. “My GOD, did you ELOPE? No, I see, you did run away from the White Castle after all! Of course you would elope!”

“Nice to see you again, Marge.”

She pulls away and properly sits on a chair across my desk. We spend some time chit-chatting. It has been a long time, after all.

I also correct her about my eloping with a man. My dignity is under threat, after all.

“Ehhh, so you’re not mackin’ it with Aureos, huh?” She pulls an exaggerated frown.

“Aureos is my disappointing knight, and is in fact so disappointing that I fail to see him as a man.”

“Ehhh? Sucks to be him, then!”

There might be two meanings to what she says. Hm. I think she and Sir Grey will get along finely.

“Rather than that. Marge, I gather that you are not here for a mere social visit?”

“Fast on the uptake as always, huh?” She leans in. “Actually, I’ve heard a lot about your antics these days. I’ve been stuck in a rut ever since the south starting heating up, you see? And not coz of summer! Corp I was working in started to get, well, boring, okay?”

“The inventor’s curse, I take it?”

“You get me!” She smiled. “Which is why—I’m sure you’ve got some work here! C’mon. Gimme.”

Hm. Maybe she and Sir Grey will be friends sooner than I expected.

This person is, after all, a magical inventor—the lifeblood of Merika’s technological superiority in the world. Among all of them, Margarita Colada is a most coveted name.

***

Yo. USS Dick here. I didn’t expect Sam to bring home a girl—ah, well, she just brought her to the Operations Room, but y’know.

“This is my friend—”

Oh, it’s just a friend.

“—Margarita Colada.”

{Hey~ You come here often?}

The frilly girl in a dress and holding up a parasol abruptly stops, twirls around, and crouches down. She motioned for Sam to come closer.

“This guy’s hilarious.” “Mm, I see you’ve instantly connected.”

It’s not like I wanted to hear it, but my microphones are just that sensitive. I can’t even disagree.

She stands up again and curtsies. “I’m the master of my craft—Margarita Colada. Please call me Marge.”

{Hmm, I’m givin’ that a 5/10. Sorry, there’s just—not much impact.}

“Huh, really?”

{Yeah, nah.}

“Ah, great, then just like this is fine, huh?”

{Uh-huh.}

“Ahh—freedom.”

Huh, Sam’s been frozen for a while by the door.

{H-hey, Sam, you okay?}

She snaps out of it and shakes her head. “I-I apologize. It’s simply a shock that the atmosphere between the two of you had normalized so quickly.”

“Ohh come on, princess! Y’know how I roll!”

“T-that I do. Well then, I will leave you and Sir Grey to your business.”

She lightly curtsies and takes her leave.

“Now, then…”

Hmm? The atmosphere’s gone horror? Marge closes the door and locks it tight. Not like I can’t unlock it myself, but she looks like she’s enjoying it.

“… secrets…”

{Uhhh—secrets?}

“Give me your secrets.”

{Uhhh—I had a one-night-stand with Amanda once, then I later found out she had a boyfriend. Yep. Carried that to my grave.}

“O-oh wow, sucks to be you, huh.”

{Uh-huh.}

Marge plopped down on the new couch in the Operations Room. It’s right behind the Shogi table where a bunch of Embro’s other board games are also stowed away.

“Really, though, how’d you come to be?”

{Huh, figured someone’d ask that at some point.}

“Not gonna tell? That makes me sad.”

{Hey! I’m actually itching to tell someone! But it just feels just a little bit weird to suddenly talk to someone about your life out of nowhere, don’t you think?}

“Oh, so you have a personality, huh? Interesting, interesting…”

{Hey, man, ya dissin’ me or somethin’?}

“Huh? OH no no no NO—didn’t mean it like that!" She waved her arms in front of her apologetically. "It’s just—you’re a f-f-fuckin’ ship!”

Huh, no, yeah, I get you.

Just like that, we continue chatting for a while.

***

Heyyy—it’s Margie!

It’s all fun and games, but—I didn’t think spirit ships were exciting` until I met Grey.

I went to Princess Bestie hoping for a gig, but I ended up signing a lifetime contract!—and a shady non-disclosure contract.

Imeanofcourse I’m used to signing the things, but she got me to sign a “Hehe You’re Never Gonna Leave” contract, ya know? If she weren’t my bestie, I wouldn’t have!

But Besties Never Die.

I’d know. We tried squaring off at some point—oh, youth.

Academy memories aside, Grey’s a f-f-fuckin’ spirit ship! O-o-oh-wowie!

I’ve been on a bunch, actually!—and they were all balls-boring. Grey’s the first one I’ve ever seen that talks and slaps ya on the back—’least by a way of words. None of the others ever talked, but they did weird stuff like opening and closing doors for you, or honking if they got angry.

I noticed that he was using these little fixtures in the ceiling to talk. There’s a bunch of ’em all around the ship. Pretty sure they were called something? I dunno, the stuff was boring on all the other ships. This is my first time seeing them being used for anything other than making a haunted house, really.

“O-oh, actually, I’m a little bit on both ways…” I say. How did we get to this topic?!

{Uh-huh. Sam’s cute, huh?}

“H-huh?! You have s-s-sexual feelings?!”

{I mean—I think? I guess? The experience is just so weird, okay? Hey, wait—Sam’s cute? Huh?}

T-this ship! It’s frightening—in a whole different sense, darn it!

“Y-yeah! She’s my bestie! She’s the best bestie! Of course she’s cute, damn it! You damn ship!”

{H-hey?! C-chill, I’m just teasing you!}

I find myself shaking my fist at the fixture in the ceiling. S-so embarrassing!

***

I settle down and—well, I do have serious business here.

“W-well, Grey, y’see, Princess Bestie actually gave me a tough job—but I think we can manage it together!”

{H-huh. Sounds rough, though.}

“Okay, so, basically, she doesn’t want you to sail all the way to Washington, okay?”

{Uh-huh.}

“But she still wants your guns to hit it, so the first thing she thought was asking me to copy your guns somehow, and make bigger ones, okay?”

{U-uh-huh? The heck, is that even possible?}

“E-heh, with me? Anything’s possible!—but makin’ big guns is kinda not my thing and I’d rather not, honestly… I mean, there’s a bunch of issues with doing it in the first place. Imagine blowing away the city each time you fire? Yeeeaah…”

I kinda get lost in my thoughts for a moment.

{Y-ya still there? Marge?}

“A-ah! AH! Ah. Yep! Right, right—”

Ahhh, how embarrassing!

 

But anyway, here’s my sell!

 

“—so, anyway, I thought—let’s make you fly!”

 

I didn’t expect him to honk! I bet the folks outside’re panicking a little bit right now~