Though he was still under thirty, Major General Sobek could only watch as everyone launched into an animated discussion. The atmosphere was heated, even argumentative, but they had stayed true to the refrain of "safety first."
Sobek was deeply moved. Every seasoned veteran present, all transferred from the Empire, regarded him as an expert on the "Dawn Dragon" problem.
He was the youngest person in the room, yet somehow also the one with the most authority. Back when he was a colonial boy dreaming big about restoring his ancestors' glory, he had never imagined he'd make it this far before turning thirty.
So, along with his gratitude, he felt crushed by the pressure of being unworthy of his position.
He was about to say a few words when Lieutenant General Midbech spoke with finality. "Then we must send our response strategy to all allied fleets."
The chief of staff said helplessly, "Sir, not every allied fleet will be quite so..."
"Cowardly, you mean?"
"Pragmatic! I mean pragmatic!" the chief of staff exclaimed.
The attendees burst into laughter, and the room was suddenly filled with cheer.
This was such a wonderful workplace atmosphere. I absolutely couldn't let everyone down with a few words of my own. The thought made Sobek feel unbearably guilty, so he hurriedly said, "At the end of the day, Commander, I've only offered a few immature suggestions."
"Old friend, you're being too modest—or perhaps you're in a hurry to be modest," the lieutenant general said. "Against that person, every tactic we devise is just a desperate attempt to revive a lost cause."
Sobek was filled with admiration. He'd thought he was the most cowardly—no, the most pragmatic—person there. He'd never imagined General Midbech was the true master!
The lieutenant general continued muttering, "Honestly, shouldn't extraordinary beings be