"Next to mankind, huh? That's a pretty good story."
The low voice of Marshal Reinhardt, one of the most powerful in the Galactic Empire, echoes the marble floor.
As for cancer, it wasn't a boring empty room or anything, it was just such a spacious lookout room that gave an overwhelming sense of air to intimidate visitors and make sure they knew who the lord of that room was.
A luxurious wooden object, present only to flick a chair placed in the center of the room and what sits on that chair. The rest was just space, and that was the use of space allowed only to those in power. Space in a station is nothing more than a precious resource.
"But you can't even look at it"
Dean stands trying to serve beside him, not the front of a marshal sitting in a chair. That was that position, where the viewer could see at a glance the relationship between the two.
"Of course you are. But how much?
The marshal with his legs together and his cheek cane turns a glimpse towards Dean. The General, the Marshal's favorite, thought a little bit, "Right."
"If we're going to put the status quo aside, it seems very unlikely. But it won't."
Remain speechless and give it back to the Marshal. Some disrespect for that, but the marshal just had a grin.
"Well, I guess so. What's their move?
"Nothing stands out. You're acting rather cautiously. But in an organization this big, it's not something you can hide through. There's something unnatural about declaring resource consumption."
"Hmm. You haven't touched it."
"Of course, my lord. I let him swim."
"Great. But this is the rush phase. Many layers still support them. What are you thinking?"
When the marshal shook his head like it was out there, he sighed haha. Dean turned to the thought of whether he should answer something, but remained vaguely nodding.
The opponent the Marshal called them, or the rival Cornelius of the Reinhardts, but if you did just think about it here in the near future, you were definitely making some mistakes. There are two major points.
One is the exclusive collapse of Razor Metal refining, a group of supporting organizations for which Fifty Materials was the lord of the Cornelius sect, so the impact is enormous.
The second is a setback in the re-entry of the Alpha universe due to the fact that the Mercenaries were subject to government punishment. This was also an operation that the military was uncommonly motivated to do, and therefore a drop in morale due to its discontinuation is inevitable.
But if these are enough to run upset on the army's great faction, there comes a big question mark.
The case is huge. The impact is also significant. But it is precisely the Imperial Army that is so huge an organization that it surpasses it. The faction's balance of power leaned somewhat toward the Reinhardts, but that's why it didn't seem to Dean, at least, that he needed to make a bet that he would risk the collapse of the faction.
"Still something..."
A word with Boosh. And "you'll have it," Marshal said. When they looked at each other, they nodded small.
"Now, this one will continue to identify trends among them. Let's make it a priority for the intelligence department."
"Mm-hmm. Nice to meet you. Let me speak to the other generals. When it comes to trouble, it's a secret."
"I understand. I'll take care of it."
"Uhm. Well, I guess it's around here today"
When Marshal Reinhardt closed the story so, he stood up in his hand with a beautifully decorated cane. Dean immediately gracefully thanked the Marshal and dropped him off as he stood.
"Oh, yeah, yeah."
As if you just remembered something, Marshal stopping your leg. And, of course, Dean never received it on par, but he said, "Anything?" and this one deliberately tilted his neck.
"In some cases, you know what I mean?
A gentle grin. Dean felt the black shadow of the Marshal hidden beneath that grin, only a little evil in his heart. Of course, that's normal, and I don't put it on my face. It was something I learned a long time ago, such as the fact that no one with a beautiful heart existed in the upper echelons of the army. Even more so if that is to be the Marshal.
"Yep. Absolutely."
Stay flat and answer yes. Then the marshal nodded satisfactorily and left. When Dean eventually became alone, he pulled out his shoulder strength and sighed loudly.
"In some cases, huh? Well, that's not a natural idea."
The Marshal never told us what he was talking about, but it was still well communicated to Dean. If you don't know that much, you can't do a general or anything in the Galactic Empire.
"Does the sweet scent appeal to the ambiguous?"
Groaning so, Dean began to turn his mind about the abdominal proposal.
Of course, the abdominal proposal meant pulling into the camp here if there was a chance.
Examples of voices and Colemans.
"The ancient route of navigation is so precise......... is this a good fit? How did you do that?
With a stunned look on his face, Taro hits on Dr. Aljimov. Then the Doctor gave a delightful look and began to run his fingers to the giant electronic paperboard that used to be the blackboard.
"Sounds like a scientist, that's plain, but it's a solid way. I didn't do anything difficult just to reconcile new discoveries with existing knowledge and experience and connect them to the next."
Following the movement of the Doctor's fingers, a line with a black meaning begins to dance on the blackboard of a white electron. That was the very material that Tarong and the others confirmed on the terminal, such as the formulas, graphs, and pictures on the pasted statistical tables, but the impression was completely different from what they saw while being explained.
"Young Coleman, I wonder if it would be rude to call you that. The tip is that Mr. Joachim of Zylstrategic told you. Look for Earth, Eden is there. Yeah, we were making a big mistake until then, you know?
The Doctor stops his hand and looks back slightly. Besides, I kind of remember feeling nostalgic that Taro sounded like a school class, and it spilled naturally and a grin. The school's memory had become rather obscure due to repeated memory overrides (overrides), but I still remembered the pleasure as a feeling.
"Yes, Mr. Aljimov. The investigation team seemed to recognize the word Eden, which was found in information, etc. within New Eden, as an abbreviation referring to New Eden itself. But you should think it was a mistake."
Said Xiaomei, AI swinging loosely on the long desk. And Dr. Aljimov nodded, "Exactly."
"All this entails is a small change in perception, but the results that can be guided are very different. Just one new theorem will be added, and the world will change. Naturally, so is the expected location of the planet. Well..."
Once the doctor stopped talking, he coughed up.
"By counting the early expansion of the Galactic Empire, we discovered that the initial region was the depths of the Alpha universe, that is, the area around New York. And then we continued to investigate, and this was mainly guided by changes in drive particle density per unit. Yes, this material. And guess how far it would have been possible for ships at the time to survive or jump in space by overdrive, narrowing down the route that was roughly mobile, which paradoxically uses the famous Stitchen proof. And when you do all sorts of optical tracking using lay tracing --"
Apparently, he's been heating up gradually, and the Doctor keeps the board book going with some worrying momentum. When he finally ran out of free space in the electronic paper, he initialized the board in white at a rate that I'm sure students would raise their voices about the complaint if this were a real lecture, and started writing the next formula again.
"That's a pretty spare look. Do you understand that?
Marl sits next to Taro, hissing. "No way," Taro returned, of course, because he had no idea.
"It has nothing to do with the military. Toko has made a difference for 5,000 years, knowledge of natural sciences. I don't even know if Dr. Honestly speaks Galactic Standard. But I know the Doctor is good. Then you must be right about that formula."
Blurring, Taro just says so naturally. And when Marl snorted, "Hmm," he seemed convinced, "Well, you've got that idea," he said.
"I'm just up and listening. It's better than Alan. We have plums."
Taro glances at Alan, who is already sleeping on his desk, and Xiaomei, who rocks the lens toward the Doctor. When he pelted Alan's forehead with a permeable electronic sheet, he floated the letter meat there - an image in that shape, to be exact.
After the process of "-, it leads to this proof. This made it possible to comprehensively capture the natural obstacles that disturbed the drive particles, the natural radiation of the stars and their use by the wind, thereby establishing these areas. Now you understand?
The doctor, who wrote a sweat on his forehead, smiles on his glistening face. Naturally Taro didn't know anything, but for now he stood completely up and clapped silently and sparingly. Marl, who sees it, rushes to start doing the same thing.
"That's right. That's Doctor. Seriously, Bravo. Though the galaxy is wide open, isn't it about the Doctor who came to that conclusion? I think Bella has a high nose as a grandson, too. No, seriously."
Tailang praises the Doctor, taking advantage of the good and sophisticated skills developed in daily company management. Besides, the Doctor has "no, no," waved to show it, but it didn't look too rough to look at his face.
"No, I'm in a little too much of a hurry. Well, that's why. But it's also true that this caused a little trouble. Don't you recognize the distribution of this predicted route?
A map of the universe of the surrounding star system, enlarged to the board. Taro stared at it as he embarked, doing so for a while.
"Particle concentration, not... star radiation, not... not like a debris belt..."
Bumps and thinks Taro as he narrows his eyes. But the answer came from another person.
"Wind's, it's a distribution map."
Voice from behind. Taro turned around and saw the face of a man who was awake at some point, with a meat lettering on his forehead.
"When I took the Dandelion troops and gathered the Wynd, I was going to make a pretty familiar one. I was dying alive. I'll never forget it."
You must have remembered when you made most of your blows to the Mercenaries, the meat lettering Alan with a difficult face. And when Dr. Aljimov nodded slowly with his strange face, he looked at each other.