Talks between the Empire and the Interstellar Union of Revolutionary States earlier this week regarding the ongoing food crisis in the Union once again broke down after Union representatives walked out. The Union, which has been suffering from a food shortage after a severe multi-planet crop pandemic, continues to refuse to accept agreements that would allow Imperial food aid to enter the nation.
Feeling a light nudge on her right arm, Vice Admiral Nishioka Naomi looked up from absent-mindedly scrolling through her handterminal's news feed under the table, glancing to her side. Her fellow Undersecretary of Trade, Lieutenant General Fujitani Kaito, cleared his throat softly, just like a disapproving parent telling their child to put their handterminal away at the dinner table. She sighed, pocketed the device, and flicked a stray hair off her face, smiling slightly at the equally bored-looking grey-skinned alien sitting on his fancy floating chair opposite her. In the middle of the table, on Fujitani's right, the Imperial Trade Minister was going through yet another lengthy description of how the Empire regulated its trade routes, seemingly to top the similarly long speech about wormhole networks the Sepharem ambassador had finished. Nishioka noticed her opposite number seemed to be counting his untouched deep-fried rings of onion.
Feeling a light nudge on her right arm, Vice Admiral Nishioka Naomi looked up from absent-mindedly scrolling through her handterminal's news feed under the table, glancing to her side. Her fellow Undersecretary of Trade, Lieutenant General Fujitani Kaito, cleared his throat softly, just like a disapproving parent telling their child to put their handterminal away at the dinner table. She sighed, pocketed the device, and flicked a stray hair off her face, smiling slightly at the equally bored-looking grey-skinned alien sitting on his fancy floating chair opposite her. In the middle of the table, on Fujitani's right, the Imperial Trade Minister was going through yet another lengthy description of how the Empire regulated its trade routes, seemingly to top the similarly long speech about wormhole networks the Sepharem ambassador had finished. Nishioka noticed her opposite number seemed to be counting his untouched deep-fried rings of onion.
Fumimaro Okada Memorial Garden, Galactic Peace Pavilion; Konno District
New Niihama, New Niihama Special Region; New Yashima
New Greater Empire
With stunning views of New Niihama's bustling waterfront, the Galactic Peace Pavilion was well-situated as the centrepiece of the Imperial capital city's diplomatic district. The sprawling complex was equally a symbol of the Empire's progress and efforts to build a harmonious galactic society, an impressive gateway for foreign diplomats visiting the Empire and a showcase of the Empire's dedication to preserving the environment, unlike their distant Ordisian ancestors. Beautiful gardens displayed plants from Ordis and all the worlds the Empire encompassed, while climate-controlled domes housed microcosms of foreign worlds, housing a vast variety of flora species donated by alien diplomats or collected by Imperial scientists.
In the middle of it all was a multi-tiered structure built of typical brutalist bluish-grey ferrocrete and glass walls that the Empire was famous for, though the greenery crept up the walls and onto the roof. The lower floors were open to the general public, with museums, shopping arcades and duty-free international markets allowing Imperial citizens and Galactic citizens to mingle with each other in on of New Niihama's most important tourist spots, while decisions and agreements that changed the face of the Galaxy were brokered every day in the upper floors.
Clearly visible from their banquet venue, the moonlit waters of Koharu Bay were dotted with dozens of lights, the gleaming Imperial Palace island surrounded by a hundred pleasure boats and other watercraft. The glowing island in the middle of the bay held significance as the place where humans first set foot on this planet centuries ago. Surrounding the bay was the city that never sleeps, the sprawling metropolis of New Niihama; capital of the New Greater Empire and beating heart of one of the galactic hyperpowers. Dominating the skyline of course was the capital's well-lit space elevator that reached into the sky seemingly forever, the orbital terminus far beyond the eye could see.
Native to this planet but not this city, Imperial Trade Minister Kishida Ichiro was a middle-aged man of 58, the age when his hairline had begun to recede. His plump features revealed a man who enjoyed the indulgences that naturally came with such a high station. Like the rest of the Imperials seated at the table, he wore a well-fitted black uniform comprising of a high-collared tunic and flared-hip pants. The golden ranks displayed on his shoulderboards was in line with the rest of his peers in the ruling Imperial High Council; full Grand General. A natural diplomat, he was the perfect man to deal with foreigners and aliens. It had been through his personal efforts that the Imperial-Sepharem relations had grown so much in recent years, to the point that they were on the very cusp of formulating an agreement for new trade routes and extra-territorial resource extraction rights.
Befitting a diplomat, he was a natural talker. Besides his shrewd political acumen, the rest of his brain was filled with trivia and facts about seemingly every subject, and he could go on forever. It was typically entertaining for curious foreigners, but for fellow Imperials, basic facts taught in Foundational Education tended to become repetitive after a few dozen meetings with foreigners. Something caught his eye, and he broke out in a smile.
"Look over there, ambassador, it's a meteoroid burning up in the atmosphere. We call those shooting stars; they're focal to an old Ordisian children's legend," Kishida began, pointing at the glowing streak across the sky, flying over the city and out over the bay, "typically we make a wish when we see one."
Nishioka looked up at the sky. It was a whole meteor shower, dozens and dozens of the glowing streaks flying across the sky. This was a rare sight indeed, especially since she should have been informed on the wide-band Imperial Navy alert system. There had been no civilian news about it as well, which was pretty strange. Perhaps this really was a unique occasion. Thinking back to a nostalgic childhood on Aokessho, Nishioka smiled to herself. Looks like all those wishes really did bring you somewhere.
The Trade Minister raised a wine glass of dark, carbonated sarsaparilla drink. It was an Old Ordisian traditional beverage that complemented the similarly traditional meal they had been served of deep fried onions and a variant of sandwiches containing grilled, shaped ground beef with vegetables and cheese. While once common on Ordis centuries ago, the difficulty in obtaining food on the colonial frontier and centuries of struggle against the colonial powers, then themselves, caused such foods to become luxurious for the people of the Southern Sphere.
"Let us wish for this trade agreement to bring great prosperity and peace to our nations," Kishida declared, the other Imperials and Sepharem diplomats following suit. Nishioka could not help but notice that the meteor shower was still ongoing as they finished the toast, and she sipped the ridiculously sweet beverage. Discreetly checking her handterminal for anything, she noticed that there was no wireless signal, a bizarre oddity in the middle of the most populous city on the planet. Perhaps an accident-
"Holy shit, look at that!" Fujitani suddenly stood up next to Nishioka, hand slamming on the table and toppling her glass of drink. His stoic demeanour disappearing in an instant, the Imperial Army officer pointed at the sky. The soft murmur of conversation ended, replaced by gasps and yells from across the table, as well as the adjacent tables where aides and less-important members of the delegations were seated. More than one chair topped to the ground noisily as people bolted up, as humans seemed to instinctively do.
Burning its way through the night sky was another shooting star, this one too close for comfort. As it approached, the fireball revealed itself to encompass an all-too-familiar wedge shape that Nishioka immediately recognised as one of the Imperial Navy's iconic juggernauts, a Fugaku II-class battleship. Never built to enter atmospheres, the obviously crippled vessel was on a deadly atmospheric reentry, 1.6 kilometres of armoured hull slowly eroding away in the face of forces of nature. It seemed to descend in slow motion, long enough for Nishioka to notice the entire T-shaped command tower was completely missing. Closer and closer it came, the people helplessly watching holding their breaths until it finally cleared the city skyline, though by this time it was so close that the heat emanating could be felt so many kilometres away.
The huge shape came down in the middle of the bay, possibly crushing whichever poor pleasure yacht had been in the way. The force of over 52 million cubic metres of starship hitting the water released a deafening boom that shattered a million windows across the city, even as the vessel was torn apart by the forces involved while still ramming into the water's surface, immediately throwing up high waves that raced towards the New Niihama waterfront. It was much like throwing a rock into a small pool, though on a horrifically larger scale.
Without leaving a moment for the observers to take in the spectacle that had just unfolded, the typical low-pitched wailing of Imperial sirens erupted across the city. Naturally the Imperial Palace island was the first to light up with activity; the glowing plasma trails of railguns and green beams of high-powered composite-beam lasers joined the burning warship's wreck in lighting up the sky above the bay. Shortly after, directed energy aerospace defence weapons on rooftops throughout the city added to the light show.
Nishioka checked her handterminal, just like half a dozen of the others on the banquet veranda, again noticing that there was no wireless signal. Her toddler son's face smiled at her on the background as her messaging and alert applications remained silent. At that moment, the sky split as the roars of aerospace fighters' engines tore through the night at low altitude. Five small craft with forward-swept wings - Nishioka instinctively reocognised them as the Union's Minh-Gonzales MiG-7s - flew overhead at low altitude, sending aides and delagates from both the Sepharem and Imperial parties alike diving for cover. Adding to the din was a burst of unmistakeable autocannon fire, as two Mitsuhishi Mi-74 Reppus followed in close pursuit, that glorious white-rimmed circle on their wings.
The Imperial Navy officer found herself to be on the ground, her hands instinctively covering her neck. The Trade Minister himself was next to her, along with one of the Sepharem diplomats who had dove under the table and crawled to their side. She pushed herself off the ground and reached out a hand for her superior, just in time to see a fighter of indeterminate type get hit by a missile over the bay, spiralling into one of the business district's skyscrapers. A tug on her hand brought back her attention, and she pulled Kishida to his feet.
"We need to get inside," one of the Imperial security personnel yelled, gesturing to a Sepharem guard who was helping one of his own back into their hover chair.
"Anyone got comms?" Fujitani asked, trying his still-useless handterminal again in frustration, "wait, get down!"
The roar of jet engines filled the air as a VTOL craft suddenly descended to the building. Nishikoa shoved the Trade Minister to the ground again, half-expecting the whole group to be cut to pieces by heavy machine gun fire. She caught her breath as she noticed it was a transport VTOL painted in New Niihama Metropolitan Police livery. A strange mixture of soldiers emerged, three were black-uniformed Metropolitan Police Special Duties Unit members in powered exoskeletons, with a pair of Imperial Marines in their full-body powered armour. A single Imperial Army soldier in the Army's bulkier version of infantry combat powered armour was also present, the green cross on his shoulder denoting him as a combat medic.
"Evacuation's here!" One of the marines proclaimed, running over to help the Trade Minister up. One of the SDU officers gestured and led his men out of the banquet area, while the Army medic moved to help some people up.
"Marine, what's going on here?" Fujitani asked, pocketing his handterminal.
"The Union's launched a surprise attack, sir. We've got no exonet so we're using radio. We're evacuating the whole city. Our standing orders are to bring the diplomats back to their embassies," the marine explained, opening up his armoured faceplate.
"How did they get here without anyone realising it?" Kishida questioned aggressively, dusting down the front of his uniform.
"I don't know, sir, but we need to load up now," the soldier gestured to the police VTOL, "the Union is trying to clear out the airspace, so they may be looking to launch a ground attack."
At that moment, the SDU team returned with other diplomats that had been in the rooftop garden, including four big, pressure-suited Khilsarii from the Hierarchy, as well as a man that Nishioka recognised as the representative of the Kathbar human rebels in the Duth, amongst others. The marines were already herding the most important members of the Sepharem delegation into the waiting VTOL.
"There's too many to load up our bird," the SDU team leader informed, "we'll take the VIPs out by air first. We have ground vehicles in the parking lot evacuating civilians, we can commandeer one and bring the rest of them back to their respective embassies."
"Roger that, let's go," the marine gestured to the foreign diplomats to board the VTOL.
One of the Khilsarii conversed with another in their incredibly complex native language, and only two boarded the VTOL, taking up the space of six people. The last ones to board were the Trade Minister, Nishioka and Fujitani. It was a very tight fit, especially since the VTOL was made to transport SDU teams or criminals, and not almost a dozen alien VIPs. Unslinging his assault rifle, the Imperial Army medic sat on the edge of the VTOL's ramp, soon joined by one of the SDU officers, while the SDU leader squeezed his way through to get to the cockpit.
On the ground, the marines and last SDU ushered the rest of the diplomatic personnel away from the veranda, while the aircraft lifted off and rotated towards the embassy quarter. The ramp was left open, enabling a clear view of the city. Things were worse than had been visible from the Peace Pavilion, with crashed aerospacecraft and miscellaneous wreckage from what was no doubt a massive orbital battle leaving flaming holes in buildings or darkened tears through the still well-lit cityscape. Fighters duelled each other for dominance over the city, while the surface-to-space and surface-to-air defences left missile contrails and sapphire laser beams arcing through the night sky. A wide variety of aerial transports could be seen buzzing all over the city heading for the outskirts, though the range of VTOLs and helicopters would likely not be enough to evacuate the entire city. Hundreds were likely already dead.
Suddenly, the VTOL shook violently, accompanied by the sound of a burst of cannon rounds impacting the aircraft. Through the open ramp, the tail end of a MiG-7 tore past, quickly out of sight as the transport aircraft began pitching violently towards the left. A shrill alarm filled the passenger cabin as the lights turned red. Quickly grabbing on to the safety railing, the Army medic managed to haul himself back into the craft, with some help from jump-jets in his leg armour.
"Fuck, the pilots are dead!" The SDU leader yelled from the front of the craft. He was probably attempting to regain control, as the aircraft levelled out slightly, but continued rattling in the air, losing altitude quickly. Unfortunately enough, they were headed away from the diplomatic quarter, and by the time they got close enough to the ground to make a crash certain, it was clear they would be going down in the central business district.
"We're going down! Everyone brace!"
With a resounding crash that knocked almost everyone in the craft to their feet, the aircraft hit the water in the middle of the one of the parks in the city's all-important business district. The SDU trooper on the ramp was thrown violently out of the craft, his lack of full-body armour almost guaranteeing his death. With momentum still dragging the aircraft forward, it beached itself out of the pond, tearing through some small trees before crashing into something, the impact throwing all of its occupants over each other.
It was at that moment that everything went black for Nishioka.
In the middle of it all was a multi-tiered structure built of typical brutalist bluish-grey ferrocrete and glass walls that the Empire was famous for, though the greenery crept up the walls and onto the roof. The lower floors were open to the general public, with museums, shopping arcades and duty-free international markets allowing Imperial citizens and Galactic citizens to mingle with each other in on of New Niihama's most important tourist spots, while decisions and agreements that changed the face of the Galaxy were brokered every day in the upper floors.
Clearly visible from their banquet venue, the moonlit waters of Koharu Bay were dotted with dozens of lights, the gleaming Imperial Palace island surrounded by a hundred pleasure boats and other watercraft. The glowing island in the middle of the bay held significance as the place where humans first set foot on this planet centuries ago. Surrounding the bay was the city that never sleeps, the sprawling metropolis of New Niihama; capital of the New Greater Empire and beating heart of one of the galactic hyperpowers. Dominating the skyline of course was the capital's well-lit space elevator that reached into the sky seemingly forever, the orbital terminus far beyond the eye could see.
Native to this planet but not this city, Imperial Trade Minister Kishida Ichiro was a middle-aged man of 58, the age when his hairline had begun to recede. His plump features revealed a man who enjoyed the indulgences that naturally came with such a high station. Like the rest of the Imperials seated at the table, he wore a well-fitted black uniform comprising of a high-collared tunic and flared-hip pants. The golden ranks displayed on his shoulderboards was in line with the rest of his peers in the ruling Imperial High Council; full Grand General. A natural diplomat, he was the perfect man to deal with foreigners and aliens. It had been through his personal efforts that the Imperial-Sepharem relations had grown so much in recent years, to the point that they were on the very cusp of formulating an agreement for new trade routes and extra-territorial resource extraction rights.
Befitting a diplomat, he was a natural talker. Besides his shrewd political acumen, the rest of his brain was filled with trivia and facts about seemingly every subject, and he could go on forever. It was typically entertaining for curious foreigners, but for fellow Imperials, basic facts taught in Foundational Education tended to become repetitive after a few dozen meetings with foreigners. Something caught his eye, and he broke out in a smile.
"Look over there, ambassador, it's a meteoroid burning up in the atmosphere. We call those shooting stars; they're focal to an old Ordisian children's legend," Kishida began, pointing at the glowing streak across the sky, flying over the city and out over the bay, "typically we make a wish when we see one."
Nishioka looked up at the sky. It was a whole meteor shower, dozens and dozens of the glowing streaks flying across the sky. This was a rare sight indeed, especially since she should have been informed on the wide-band Imperial Navy alert system. There had been no civilian news about it as well, which was pretty strange. Perhaps this really was a unique occasion. Thinking back to a nostalgic childhood on Aokessho, Nishioka smiled to herself. Looks like all those wishes really did bring you somewhere.
The Trade Minister raised a wine glass of dark, carbonated sarsaparilla drink. It was an Old Ordisian traditional beverage that complemented the similarly traditional meal they had been served of deep fried onions and a variant of sandwiches containing grilled, shaped ground beef with vegetables and cheese. While once common on Ordis centuries ago, the difficulty in obtaining food on the colonial frontier and centuries of struggle against the colonial powers, then themselves, caused such foods to become luxurious for the people of the Southern Sphere.
"Let us wish for this trade agreement to bring great prosperity and peace to our nations," Kishida declared, the other Imperials and Sepharem diplomats following suit. Nishioka could not help but notice that the meteor shower was still ongoing as they finished the toast, and she sipped the ridiculously sweet beverage. Discreetly checking her handterminal for anything, she noticed that there was no wireless signal, a bizarre oddity in the middle of the most populous city on the planet. Perhaps an accident-
"Holy shit, look at that!" Fujitani suddenly stood up next to Nishioka, hand slamming on the table and toppling her glass of drink. His stoic demeanour disappearing in an instant, the Imperial Army officer pointed at the sky. The soft murmur of conversation ended, replaced by gasps and yells from across the table, as well as the adjacent tables where aides and less-important members of the delegations were seated. More than one chair topped to the ground noisily as people bolted up, as humans seemed to instinctively do.
Burning its way through the night sky was another shooting star, this one too close for comfort. As it approached, the fireball revealed itself to encompass an all-too-familiar wedge shape that Nishioka immediately recognised as one of the Imperial Navy's iconic juggernauts, a Fugaku II-class battleship. Never built to enter atmospheres, the obviously crippled vessel was on a deadly atmospheric reentry, 1.6 kilometres of armoured hull slowly eroding away in the face of forces of nature. It seemed to descend in slow motion, long enough for Nishioka to notice the entire T-shaped command tower was completely missing. Closer and closer it came, the people helplessly watching holding their breaths until it finally cleared the city skyline, though by this time it was so close that the heat emanating could be felt so many kilometres away.
The huge shape came down in the middle of the bay, possibly crushing whichever poor pleasure yacht had been in the way. The force of over 52 million cubic metres of starship hitting the water released a deafening boom that shattered a million windows across the city, even as the vessel was torn apart by the forces involved while still ramming into the water's surface, immediately throwing up high waves that raced towards the New Niihama waterfront. It was much like throwing a rock into a small pool, though on a horrifically larger scale.
Without leaving a moment for the observers to take in the spectacle that had just unfolded, the typical low-pitched wailing of Imperial sirens erupted across the city. Naturally the Imperial Palace island was the first to light up with activity; the glowing plasma trails of railguns and green beams of high-powered composite-beam lasers joined the burning warship's wreck in lighting up the sky above the bay. Shortly after, directed energy aerospace defence weapons on rooftops throughout the city added to the light show.
Nishioka checked her handterminal, just like half a dozen of the others on the banquet veranda, again noticing that there was no wireless signal. Her toddler son's face smiled at her on the background as her messaging and alert applications remained silent. At that moment, the sky split as the roars of aerospace fighters' engines tore through the night at low altitude. Five small craft with forward-swept wings - Nishioka instinctively reocognised them as the Union's Minh-Gonzales MiG-7s - flew overhead at low altitude, sending aides and delagates from both the Sepharem and Imperial parties alike diving for cover. Adding to the din was a burst of unmistakeable autocannon fire, as two Mitsuhishi Mi-74 Reppus followed in close pursuit, that glorious white-rimmed circle on their wings.
The Imperial Navy officer found herself to be on the ground, her hands instinctively covering her neck. The Trade Minister himself was next to her, along with one of the Sepharem diplomats who had dove under the table and crawled to their side. She pushed herself off the ground and reached out a hand for her superior, just in time to see a fighter of indeterminate type get hit by a missile over the bay, spiralling into one of the business district's skyscrapers. A tug on her hand brought back her attention, and she pulled Kishida to his feet.
"We need to get inside," one of the Imperial security personnel yelled, gesturing to a Sepharem guard who was helping one of his own back into their hover chair.
"Anyone got comms?" Fujitani asked, trying his still-useless handterminal again in frustration, "wait, get down!"
The roar of jet engines filled the air as a VTOL craft suddenly descended to the building. Nishikoa shoved the Trade Minister to the ground again, half-expecting the whole group to be cut to pieces by heavy machine gun fire. She caught her breath as she noticed it was a transport VTOL painted in New Niihama Metropolitan Police livery. A strange mixture of soldiers emerged, three were black-uniformed Metropolitan Police Special Duties Unit members in powered exoskeletons, with a pair of Imperial Marines in their full-body powered armour. A single Imperial Army soldier in the Army's bulkier version of infantry combat powered armour was also present, the green cross on his shoulder denoting him as a combat medic.
"Evacuation's here!" One of the marines proclaimed, running over to help the Trade Minister up. One of the SDU officers gestured and led his men out of the banquet area, while the Army medic moved to help some people up.
"Marine, what's going on here?" Fujitani asked, pocketing his handterminal.
"The Union's launched a surprise attack, sir. We've got no exonet so we're using radio. We're evacuating the whole city. Our standing orders are to bring the diplomats back to their embassies," the marine explained, opening up his armoured faceplate.
"How did they get here without anyone realising it?" Kishida questioned aggressively, dusting down the front of his uniform.
"I don't know, sir, but we need to load up now," the soldier gestured to the police VTOL, "the Union is trying to clear out the airspace, so they may be looking to launch a ground attack."
At that moment, the SDU team returned with other diplomats that had been in the rooftop garden, including four big, pressure-suited Khilsarii from the Hierarchy, as well as a man that Nishioka recognised as the representative of the Kathbar human rebels in the Duth, amongst others. The marines were already herding the most important members of the Sepharem delegation into the waiting VTOL.
"There's too many to load up our bird," the SDU team leader informed, "we'll take the VIPs out by air first. We have ground vehicles in the parking lot evacuating civilians, we can commandeer one and bring the rest of them back to their respective embassies."
"Roger that, let's go," the marine gestured to the foreign diplomats to board the VTOL.
One of the Khilsarii conversed with another in their incredibly complex native language, and only two boarded the VTOL, taking up the space of six people. The last ones to board were the Trade Minister, Nishioka and Fujitani. It was a very tight fit, especially since the VTOL was made to transport SDU teams or criminals, and not almost a dozen alien VIPs. Unslinging his assault rifle, the Imperial Army medic sat on the edge of the VTOL's ramp, soon joined by one of the SDU officers, while the SDU leader squeezed his way through to get to the cockpit.
On the ground, the marines and last SDU ushered the rest of the diplomatic personnel away from the veranda, while the aircraft lifted off and rotated towards the embassy quarter. The ramp was left open, enabling a clear view of the city. Things were worse than had been visible from the Peace Pavilion, with crashed aerospacecraft and miscellaneous wreckage from what was no doubt a massive orbital battle leaving flaming holes in buildings or darkened tears through the still well-lit cityscape. Fighters duelled each other for dominance over the city, while the surface-to-space and surface-to-air defences left missile contrails and sapphire laser beams arcing through the night sky. A wide variety of aerial transports could be seen buzzing all over the city heading for the outskirts, though the range of VTOLs and helicopters would likely not be enough to evacuate the entire city. Hundreds were likely already dead.
Suddenly, the VTOL shook violently, accompanied by the sound of a burst of cannon rounds impacting the aircraft. Through the open ramp, the tail end of a MiG-7 tore past, quickly out of sight as the transport aircraft began pitching violently towards the left. A shrill alarm filled the passenger cabin as the lights turned red. Quickly grabbing on to the safety railing, the Army medic managed to haul himself back into the craft, with some help from jump-jets in his leg armour.
"Fuck, the pilots are dead!" The SDU leader yelled from the front of the craft. He was probably attempting to regain control, as the aircraft levelled out slightly, but continued rattling in the air, losing altitude quickly. Unfortunately enough, they were headed away from the diplomatic quarter, and by the time they got close enough to the ground to make a crash certain, it was clear they would be going down in the central business district.
"We're going down! Everyone brace!"
With a resounding crash that knocked almost everyone in the craft to their feet, the aircraft hit the water in the middle of the one of the parks in the city's all-important business district. The SDU trooper on the ramp was thrown violently out of the craft, his lack of full-body armour almost guaranteeing his death. With momentum still dragging the aircraft forward, it beached itself out of the pond, tearing through some small trees before crashing into something, the impact throwing all of its occupants over each other.
It was at that moment that everything went black for Nishioka.
