Just as I'd guessed: Second Madman didn't much like guarding gates.
"Have this ship guard the World Gate?" War Song's voice came through two seconds late, as if the crazy AI had turned my words over several times before figuring out what they meant. "This ship is covered in main guns, covered in main guns, are you scared yet? How can such an imposing battleship be sent to guard a gate?! This ship is the charge-into-battle type! This ship still has to help the general conquer new territory..."
I figured the entire Empire had only one soldier left who would haggle with a Commander: this oddball.
But I had no time to bargain with a crazy Shipboard Mainframe. All I needed to do was push forward a certain Girl who had a special effect on Second Madman. Viska tapped the communicator panel. "Listen to Brother."
Then Second Madman declared that she would brave fire and water without hesitation, willing to devote everything to the Empire.
I told Second Madman and her escort force to stay where they were, adjusted War Song's gravity to a normal planetary level, then ordered the Engineering Team to begin constructing the framework of a World Gate in War Song's orbit. This kind of temporary World Gate had a limited service life. Because it used so many modular components, its stability would decline after operating for a certain period. Its advantage, however, was convenience. Every module came with its own energy core, allowing it to begin operating rapidly even in Enemy-Occupied Zones with harsh environments and difficult resupply.
Massive Engineering Ships like moving mountains flew above War Song's synchronous orbit. Vast numbers of small "fragments" flew from their bellies. These fragments were not workships used to construct the World Gate—they were the World Gate itself. Once