Star Ship Girl Era: My Shipgirls Are Too Overpowered

The return from Glasswake Watch was quieter than the journey in.

Part of that was simple fatigue. The fleet had not been fighting nonstop, but the past several days had still worn on everyone.

Mournveil did not allow easy travel. Every route had to be checked, every storm pocket respected, and every sensor reading questioned before it could be trusted.

Even when nothing attacked them, the nebula made people work.

Aurelian noticed the difference in the shipgirls as they moved back through the known corridor.

Rhoswen was less restless than usual, though that might have been because she had spent half the night losing to the simulated near-Tier V beast and calling it unfair.

Solenne was reviewing drone recovery plans. Lysara quietly compared the new route data with old Vhaloric fragments.

Astra stood beside Aurelian as always, calm enough that the entire command deck felt steadier for it.

For a while, Aurelian simply watched the nebula pass outside the display.

Glasswake Watch had been a success, but not the kind of success that could be announced loudly.

It was not a captured world, not a major victory over the Kharov, and not a grand symbol that would impress civilians.

It was better than that.

It was a foothold.

A hidden outpost, useful routes, beast materials, combat experience, and the first real direction toward Auric Maw.

One day, when the March is stronger, that five-star system might become one of its greatest treasures.

For now, it was a locked door with teeth behind it, and Aurelian had no intention of pretending otherwise.

His own growth still felt strange to think about.

If he were still moving inside ordinary Alliance lanes, his progress would already look absurd. A Tier III commander at his age was impressive enough.

A Tier III commander with a Tier V flagship, a growing frontier territory, captured strategic infrastructure, and multiple high-grade shipgirls was something people would not simply praise and then ignore.

They would ask questions.

Too many questions.

The Arcturus family could protect him from rivals, but even a powerful family could not erase curiosity forever.

The Human Alliance was not a cruel place by nature, at least not compared to many powers in the wider stars, but it had its own rules, its own fears, and its own need for stability.

If Aurelian’s growth became too visible too quickly, some people would decide that his secrets belonged to humanity as a whole.

Or worse, to themselves.

That was why distance mattered.

Mournveil mattered.

The Crownward March mattered.

Out here, his gains could be explained through danger, ruins, good judgment, family support, and relentless work. It was still unusual, but unusual was easier to accept in a frontier no one fully understood.

The Destiny System remained his greatest secret.

It had guided him more than anyone knew, and yet it had never replaced the work needed afterward.

Every clue still demanded ships, people, materials, choices, and risk. The system could point to a door. It did not walk through it for him.

Aurelian leaned back slightly in his chair and closed the thought before it became too heavy.

Astra noticed anyway.

"You are thinking too much."

"I thought that was my job."

"It is. That does not make it less true."

He smiled faintly. "Fair."

She looked toward the route display. "Glasswake was useful."

"It was."

"And not enough."

"No."

Astra nodded as if that was the only answer she expected. "Then we return later."

"We will."

The fleet cleared the densest layer of Mournveil several hours later. Long-range communication became cleaner, and Eirenne began pulling in delayed reports from the outer chain.

Karven Spire remained stable, though that word now carried several warnings. The Vortan quarantine zone still showed faint abyssal residue in sealed underground channels, but Elowen’s remote protocols and the hazard teams had stopped any spread.

Daskor remained in custody and continued to insist that he was the lawful ruler, which nobody involved found surprising.

Nhalis was more promising.

The Vaelari advisory council had begun cooperating with the March administrators, though they remained cautious with every word.

Targan Rell had tried to make himself useful by providing additional surrender codes and lists of hidden Kharov loyalists, but Astercourt had flagged three of his lists as suspiciously convenient and ordered a full cross-check before acting on them.

Aurelian read that note and approved it immediately.

A man like Targan would try to survive by selling other people. That did not mean all his information was false, but it did mean every name needed to be checked before someone was dragged from their home.

Larkspur Haven, meanwhile, was busier than ever.

The first Arcturus family support teams had settled into their assigned zones. Orvain’s branch personnel were still under review, but the early reports were decent.

Some had already proved useful in engineering and logistics. A few younger commanders had been marked as promising but impatient, which sounded normal enough.

Astercourt had sent three separate complaints about people trying to "improve" her intake system without understanding it.

Aurelian forwarded those complaints to Orvain.

Orvain replied with only one line.

I will remove the brave fools.

That seemed acceptable.

By the time the fleet reached the safer approach toward Larkspur Haven, the command channel felt alive again.

Ships moved in controlled lanes around the planet and starport. Supply convoys shifted between orbital holding zones and surface intake centers.

Construction frames had expanded along two new station arms, and Aurelian could see the first signs of the Arcturus family base taking shape in the unused sectors he had reserved earlier.

The March looked different from when he had left.

The Black Crown entered high orbit, and Eirenne’s projection appeared beside the main display. "Welcome back, Commander."

"You sound pleased."

"I am. Nothing exploded during your absence."

Astercourt joined the channel a second later. "That is not the standard."

"It is a useful minimum," Eirenne replied.

Aurelian smiled despite himself. "How bad is the backlog?"

Astercourt’s silence told him more than a report.

Then she said, "Manageable, if nobody invents another frontier within the frontier before the end of the week."

Rhoswen’s voice entered immediately. "Too late."

"Do not speak."

Aurelian looked at the ceiling for a moment, then decided not to get involved.