Imperial Space Force Headquarters
"Ikeda, about those cargo ships—any luck securing docks?"
"Only two so far. Hard to find more—even in America, docks that big are rare."
Takashiro Soryu planned to order cargo ships through a Russian shipping company, contracted to Richard Investment's shipbuilding subsidiary.
The specifications were staggering: 330 meters long, 41 meters at the waterline. Five of these giants would be built. America would handle hull assembly and steam turbine installation, while Japan would complete the outfitting.
The hull designs, provided by Soryu, featured bulbous bows and massive stabilizers, with integrated thrusters. Once towed to Japan, the superstructures would be stripped and replaced with angled decks, side elevators, and steam catapults at the bow.
But there was a catch: Japan lacked dry docks large enough for underwater maintenance.
"At least the hulls can be adapted internally. The real issue is crew. We'll train some Space Force officers, but it won't be enough. We can't submit to the Navy's command—maybe His Majesty could forcibly transfer enlisted men and NCOs to us? Though the backlash would be brutal..."
"Ideally, we'd avoid war altogether and never need these monstrosities."
"Yonekura, how's the heat-resistant alloy?"
"Working on nickel-based single-crystal alloys. If successful, they'll withstand 1,000°C+, making gas turbine engines viable. Oh, and we've prototyped a turbocharger for reciprocating engines—testing it soon on a Jupiter engine."
"Miyake, diesel engines?"
"Developing a uniflow scavenging system with cocoon-shaped compressors. Testing an inline 6-cylinder, 8-liter prototype now. But casting larger blocks is problematic—90% of crankshafts fail inspection. We can't afford flaws in wartime gear."
"Our industrial tech still needs work."
"Speaking of, the wind tunnel lab nears completion. 900 km/h capability will let us refine airfoils. No more prototypes disintegrating mid-flight."
(Note: Historically, two Zero fighter test pilots died this way.)
"Shirotsugu, rocket progress?"
"Solid-fuel rockets are practical now—100 km altitude, 400 km range. But without guidance, who knows where they'll land."
"Please tell me you didn't fire toward land?"
"Of course not! We launched from Kujūkuri Beach toward America! If a ship was 400 km out... well, unfortunate accident. Radar-guided terminal homing is the next hurdle. Miniaturize that, and our defense is flawless."
"Liquid-fuel rockets?"
"Not happening overnight. Even with throttled combustion, stability's an issue. Sometimes they just... don't launch. Artificial satellites by 1939, then manned spaceflight! I'll be the first astronaut!"
"Hell yeah! We'll back you!"
"Ōmisaki, how's soccer prep?"
"Scouting players from teacher's colleges and universities. We played a friendly against a university select team... it was brutal."
"Bruh, what happened?"
"The Space Force team is mostly women, right? Well, they won 7–4. Post-match, the uni boys sobbed, threatened seppuku, and swore off soccer. Our girls dribbled circles around them—Elásticos, Marseille turns, Cruyff cuts, scissors moves—like a damn circus. Their keeper bashed his head on the ground crying after a chapéu hat-trick."
"Did you... have to break them that hard?"
"Needed to make a point. Now we train them regularly. Oh, and several couples formed. Youth, am I right?"
"..." (collective silence)
"On a serious note, SP bodyguards are ready for deployment. The Army's got a bone to pick with us."
Soryu had trained Ōmisaki in combat since their Gakushūin days—replicating techniques from memory (even fictional ones like "Mutsu○-ryū"). Now, Ōmisaki trained Space Force students as security details.
"Appreciate it. We've got right-wing extremists gunning for us too."
"We've also drilled a sharpshooter unit—basic infantry skill, but they'll hold the line in a crisis."
"Soryu, what about the... final weapon?"
"Richard Investment's cornering the uranium market. Enough for a few devices, but we'll keep buying to block others. Development starts now."
Uranium bombs were straightforward, but plutonium implosion designs required precision calculations (hence the 8-bit computers). Miniaturizing for missiles? Even harder.
"No leaks. We can't let America or Germany accelerate their programs."
The comrades shared a rare, carefree moment—knowing the storm ahead.
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A/N: Thank you for reading Chapter 49!
(If only His Majesty could've joined...)
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