File 02 – Ungrateful Angels Do Exist
Shaun-Lyatt
Three days after the death of a council aide that led to the closure of the spaceport on the planet Beantenz.
The spaceport had returned to its usual daily scenery.
At the market in that spaceport, while stocking up on supplies and considering maintenance for the ship, I was thinking of returning to the base on Orlangea.
It would be convenient if there was a job heading to Orlangea, but if not, going empty would be fine too.
After loading the replenished supplies onto the ship, I headed to the cargo delivery reception (the usual counter).
But there was a troublesome group there.
I tried to pretend not to notice them and take care of my business, but unluckily, they spotted me.
“Long time no see, Shaun-Lyatt. Have you considered becoming a chef on my ship?”
The one spouting nonsense like those Drakken sisters is Wiora-Zaval, a fellow cargo transporter.
Not small-scale like me or Tony, she owns multiple ships and takes on jobs as an organized [fleet team] called [Angel Carriers] for her medium-sized cargo transport group.
“Not a chance. I’ve turned you down many times already.”
I firmly reject her while feeling annoyed.
And as expected, the most troublesome one came biting.
“You! How dare you show such disrespect after the leader Zaval has extended an invitation to you!”
This is Lilyna-Freemax, the deputy leader who always comes snapping at me no matter what.
“So you want me to cry tears of joy here and join your team?”
“The thought of a snail like you becoming one of us makes me sick!”
“Well isn’t it great then that I’m rejecting your offer?”
“To decline the leader Zaval’s invitation is the height of rudeness! Punishable by death!”
“This happens every damn time, so annoying!”
The reason she comes biting at me is simple.
She doesn’t like it when The leader Zaval talk to anyone besides her.
She seems to allow conversation among members, but not with outsiders, especially men.
Incidentally, it’s a well-known fact that the Angel Carriers team consists entirely of women who are lesbian lovers in Zaval’s harem.
Yes, they are the ladies group that Tony mentioned before.
“Stop it, Lilyna! Your remarks just now were discriminatory slurs against all Sumerian.”
Zaval reprimands Freemax with a stern expression.
“My, I’m very sorry!”
“You don’t apologize to me, do you?”
Scolded by Zaval, Freemax glares at me like it’s my fault she got scolded by the leader,
but still bows deeply saying:
“I apologize…”
She’s certainly well-disciplined.
“My apologies. I’ll make sure to properly educate her, so can you forgive us?”
“I’m used to it, so no need to worry.”
Like this, Zaval herself is undoubtedly an admirable person with:
Her skill as a ship crew member.
Her leadership ability as the head of the fleet.
Her magnanimity.
Her likable personality.
Plus a model-like figure and beauty. so there is no doubt that she is a desirable person
Her subordinates are also competent individuals for the most part.
However…
Having fanatical followers like this Freemax is the problem.
Especially this Lilyna-Freemax always comes snapping at me at every opportunity.
So I decidedly ignored her and quickly changed the subject to business to wrap things up here.
“Where are you headed?”
“To Orlangea next.”
“Ah, taken…”
I didn’t have high expectations, but still felt a tinge of regret when the job was already taken.
“Got something going on?”
“No, I was just thinking of heading back for maintenance. In case there were any openings.”
“There should still be a few left. You’d better hurry.”
“I see. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Let me know if you ever feel like joining us.”
As Zaval said that and walked away, Freemax turned towards me, glaring intensely and sticking out her tongue.
After parting ways with Zaval’s Angel Carriers, I finally made it to the cargo delivery reception counter.
“Welcome to the Planetary Beantenz Galaxy Cargo Transporter’s Union!”
“Are there any requests left for Orlangea?”
“One moment please.”
The one at the counter was a young Beastfolk woman – a Keezel.
The Beastfolk are a race that looks human but with some animal features mixed in.
To put it simply, they are like the beast-people from ancient human folklore stories.
Among them, the Keezels refer to those with feline features.
Her cat ears kept twitching as she searched, making me want to pet them.
Eventually she pulled up a list.
“Here are the current requests for the planet Orlangea.”
The list showed about five jobs heading to Orlangea, but three of them were too large for my ship to handle, and one of the transportable ones had already been accepted.
The one who took that larger job was the Angel Carriers.
“Transporting gems?”
“Yes. This is a request to transport gemstones that will be exhibited at the [Galaxy Grand Gem Exhibition] held at a museum on Orlangea next week.”
She diligently answered my muttered question.
The only remaining request was to transport artwork submissions for the [Galaxy Citizens Art Festival] being held at another museum on Orlangea.
“I’ll take that one then.”
“Understood. Please scan your wrist terminal ID on the verification checker.”
I did as instructed, holding my wrist terminal up to the scanner.
“Request received. Please come to this counter by 9am tomorrow morning.”
“Got it, thanks for your help.”
After accepting the job, as I turned to head back to my ship, I noticed a woman skulking about in a very out-of-place manner.
But this is actually a common sight.
Many people misunderstand the “cargo delivery reception” to mean a place to drop off shipments to be delivered.
To request a delivery, they need to go to the “delivery request order counter” instead.
Of course the staff are used to it, immediately taking that suspiciously behaving woman to the right place.
“Oh, and by the way…”
“Hmm? What is it?”
The cat-eared girl called out as I was leaving.
“There have been pirate sightings in this area of space recently. Many ships have gone missing without contact, and lots of debris has been found floating around. So please be careful out there.”
“Ah, thanks for the warning. I’ll watch out.”
After thanking her, I finally returned to my ship.
READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT GADGETIZEDPANDA.COM
Lilyna-Freemax
I’m furious.
Absolutely furious.
Why does that snail get the leader Zaval’s favor?!
It’s true our first encounter was when our ship got stranded in the asteroid field,
with long-range communications down and we were stuck there.
that snail came to our aid, releasing her provisions to give us verydelicious food when our rations were depleted.
She stayed put until the rescue ship arrived, relaying our situation to the delivery destination.
And her initial appearance was dazzlingly beautiful, enough to captivate even the leader Zaval.
But then! Why?!
The next morning she had turned into a man!
The leader Zaval and the others say he explained being a Sumerian from the start, but I don’t recall hearing that!
It’s absolutely not because I was so entranced by his beauty that I wasn’t listening!
Absolutely not!
In other words, he tricked me!
It was because I was tricked by him that I passionately recommended making him one of our crew members to the leader Zaval!
It was because I was tricked that I had three helpings of the delicious tiramisu dessert he made!
Even if he’s a Sumerian, there’s no problem if he presents as a woman normally.
But he says he’s normally a man.
Then he’s a man.
A filthy man!
So why?!
Why is the leader Zaval trying to bring him into our crew?!
Admittedly, the creamy chicken soup he made was delicious.
The leader Zaval really liked it too.
Some of our crew members had hearts in their eyes over him.
But he’s a man!
A MAN!
Shaun-Lyatt
Things went extremely smoothly starting the next day.
I arrived at the counter 15 minutes before the scheduled time, loaded the cargo without issue, all the checkpoints passed without problem, and the control tower staff who processed my departure was that tear-stricken girl from the first day.
Unlike that day, she responded with a bright, refreshing smile.
Even entering hyperspace, no troubles arose over the first half of the four-day trip to Orlangea.
But this smooth sailing came to an abrupt end on the morning of the third day.
Just as I finished breakfast and took my seat in the cockpit, the ship’s lights turned red and a blaring alarm rang out.
“Target lock warning?!”
I hurriedly gripped the controls and attempted evasive maneuvers.
The beam impact shook the entire ship, and through the front cockpit window I could see the trail of the beam as it passed by.
“Dammit! What idiot is doing this?!”
Typically, combat in hyperspace is avoided by even pirates unless it’s some kind of wartime operation.
No matter how stable hyperspace is supposed to be, you never know what could happen.
And yet the attacker was calmly firing beams at me.
More shots came
as I tried dodging them while attempting to send a distress call to GCPO.
But communications seemed to be jammed, with only static coming through.
If that’s the case, I prepared to exit hyperspace.
Once back in normal space, the jamming from hyperspace should be blocked and communications restored.
Of course, they will likely pursue us, but only for a brief moment.
At that time, we received a communication from the enemy.
Apparently, they had adjusted it so that they could communicate with us.
I don’t know who, but in order to record the exchange, I started a recording device and received the communication.
And what appeared on the monitor was an arrogant-faced brat wearing the uniform of the Galactic Republic National Defense Force Academy.
I immediately checked the registration and registration number of the enemy ship.
And it was undoubtedly a training ship from the Defense Force Academy.
[Tell the transport ship ahead to stop immediately and submit to an inspection. Otherwise, we will shoot it down.]
“Don’t be ridiculous, you brats! You have no authority to inspect us!!”
That’s right, the training ships operated by Academy students do not have the authority to conduct inspections or searches like regular warships.
[I do have the authority! Now stop immediately!]
“I have no intention of following a fool who doesn’t know the proper procedures and rules for inspections.”
While conversing with the enemy, I prepared to escape from hyperspace and send an SOS signal to the GCPO.
[You… do you know who my father is?]
“No, I don’t.”
[My father is… Alvanse Mustag, the Commander of the Eastern Sector of the Galactic Republic Defense Force. I am his son, Delnov Mustag!]
I see, or rather, of course, this brat is confident that he can cover this up because his father is an important military figure, which is why he is doing this.
However, according to what I heard from the cat-eared girl yesterday, this has certainly gone beyond a level that can be covered up.
Or perhaps there are actual pirates involved.
“Could it be that you’re responsible for the recent increase in ship wreckage?”
[It’s only natural retribution for the fools who defied me instead of simply handing over their cargo! After leaving them with just enough fuel to get by, I used them for target practice!]
I could hear laughter from the others on the bridge besides the brat sitting in the captain’s seat.
It seems these guys are undoubtedly pirates.
The brats, not knowing what was so funny, were laughing idiotically on the bridge while conversing.
The content included mocking the exchanges with those they had shot down, shooting the main cannon at their targets just as they were relieved to have been spared, and threatening any female crew members by saying they would spare them in exchange for sexual favors, only to abandon them after anyway – utterly vile and inhumane behavior on par with actual space pirates.
They were deliberately letting me hear this as a threat, no doubt.
Meanwhile, I had included the registration and registration number of the training ship before us in the SOS signal to the GCPO, along with detailed information about what was happening, and preparations for escaping hyperspace were complete.
So I quietly slipped out of hyperspace.
Of course, I immediately sent the SOS signal and accelerated at full engine power to gain distance.
Immediately after that, I received a communication from the GCPO.
[This is the GCPO Orlangea Branch. What is this about a military training ship acting as pirates!?]
The staff member asked about our situation, sounding perplexed.
“It’s possible the training ship was hijacked. Those aboard were certainly of student age, but it’s not unheard of for underage pirates to exist.”
I explained it that way, but those guys were undoubtedly students from the Academy.
“In any case, you’d better get here quickly, or even space debris will be reduced to nothing!”
[Understood! We’re moving swiftly…Gaga–!!]
BOOM!
The moment the communication was cut off, the ship shook violently and was blown in an unnatural direction.
But the next instant, the ship suddenly stopped.
Since I was seated in the pilot’s seat with my belt on, I wasn’t slammed into the wall, but my brain was thoroughly shaken.
The monitor was sounding an alarm indicating that one of the engines had been destroyed.
Furthermore, it seemed there was damage all the way to the keel.
Since there was no target lock warning, it didn’t seem like we were blown away by a beam.
And the reason the ship stopped was undoubtedly because we were caught in a tractor beam.
[Well, well. Trying to escape without us noticing, huh. If it weren’t for your ship’s cargo, I’d have blown you away with the main cannon.]
The brat captain forcibly established communication and came to gloat.
“I’d like to know how you managed to wreck my ship without firing a beam.”
I bitterly tossed that out, and he sneered condescendingly.
[My ship’s helmsman is skilled enough to simply ram your engine with the bow, an easy task.]
He casually explained,
[Now we’ll bring you into the fighter hangar and help ourselves to your cargo. Just sit tight, hahahahaha!]
He hangs up with a silly laugh.
Time was short until we were recovered.
In the meantime, I decided to gear up.
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