Episode 104: The Secret Art of Tactical Retreats

Taro realized he was sighing way too much lately—a thought entirely too casual for the current disaster. He grimaced as Koume read off the latest damage reports with her usual robotic punctuality. This wasn't working. He looked up, jaw set; RS4 was already registering hits within Engagement Range. He didn’t have a second to waste on dithering.

"RS1 to EAP 2. Commander, buddy, you still with us?" Taro asked, giving his cheeks a sharp slap to focus.

He kept his voice breezy and calm. A few agonizing seconds of static later, a panicked voice crackled back through the comms. "—Ah! Yes! I'm here! I'm still here!"

"Glad to hear it. Quick question: I’m guessing it’d be a bureaucratic nightmare to just, you know, hand over command to someone else right now?" Taro asked. He did his absolute best to sound like a normal human being, burying his mounting irritation under a layer of forced politeness.

"—What are you even talking about? Are you suggesting you take over? Don't be ridiculous. That's impossible!"

Well, obviously, Taro thought, nodding to himself. He glanced at the ceiling of the bridge. "Right, right. Look, I want to have a little 'off-the-record' chat, so I need you to install this. It’s a disposable encryption app. It won't leave a trace on your black box. Very handy."

[PROGRAM TRANSMITTING: TARGET EAP 2 — ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATOR VER 1.1]

"—What do you think you’re—"

"Just set it up," Taro said, over-enunciating every single syllable.

The communicator went dead. Silence stretched across the bridge for a tense few moments.

[ENCRYPTED COMMUNICATION PROGRAM: SECRET NO. 3. COMMUNICATION LINK... ESTABLISHED]

A notification pinged on Taro's BISHOP. He let out a long, weary breath and closed his eyes to concentrate. Beside him, Marl and Koume were a blur of efficiency, handling the combat maneuvers without needing a word from him. They knew the drill.

"Okay, Commander. I’m just going to 'talk to myself' for a bit. Since 'no one else can hear this,' feel free to just treat these ideas as your own brilliant flashes of insight."

Except for Marl and Koume, of course, he added mentally.

A beat of silence passed before the reply came: "—Understood."

"Except for the EAP 2 Shield Ships, turn every strike craft around. We’re going to haul ass away from the enemy's main force at full power. As for the reinforcements warping in behind us, my company's fleet is holding the line. You won't take much heat even without your shields."

Taro flicked his eyes toward the Radar Screen, double-checking the tactical soup.

"Rendezvous with us and scoop up the mine-clearing fleets on the way. Take the Route from the CE Fleet through to the ATT Fleet. We’ve got a window before the enemy Battleships finish their warp-ins, so we can make it if we—"

The ship suddenly bucked.

"Dammit! Koume, status?" Taro barked, switching his mic off and spinning around.

"Enemy gunboats have arrived. They are attempting long-range sniping," Koume reported. "The impact was caused by high-G evasive maneuvers. No damage sustained."

"Teiro, we’re about to be in a real slugging match," Marl warned. "Wrap it up fast!"

Taro gave them a thumbs-up and hopped back onto the encrypted channel.

"As I was saying: if a second wave hits us, we’re toasted. And there’s no telling if a third or fourth wave is right behind them. We need to bug out and regroup. We’ll perform a sequential retreat via Overdrive. If they chase, we hit 'em back, then jump again."

"—I see... but what if they’re persistent? What if they don't stop coming?"

Taro bit back the urge to scream. Then we die! Obviously! Instead, he took a breath. "It'll be fine. It’s just common sense: fight when you’re winning, run when you’re not. Honestly, if you can pull off a retreat with minimal casualties against these kinds of numbers, they’ll probably give you a medal. I’d bet my life on it."

The line went quiet as the Commander chewed on that. Taro searched for one final nudge to close the deal.

"Look, we’ve got the coordinates. Once we’re safe, we can analyze their sensor data. We can probably deduce their whole strategy from the Drive Particle signatures. As far as 'frontline reconnaissance' goes, this is a gold mine. You've done enough, Commander."

The hull groaned as another shockwave rattled his teeth. This one felt a lot more personal.

"Direct hit from sniper fire," Koume announced. "Shields at 93%. Engagement in 280 seconds. Ship No. 3 has sustained minor damage; the sensors are acting up."

Taro checked his display. Deep within the enemy swarm, he spotted the culprit: a ship kiting backward while lobbing heavy ordnance.

"That little bastard... we’ll never catch him unless we charge the whole line. Taiki-san, can you handle that nuisance?"

"—Consider it done. I'll give 'em something to remember me by!"

Following Taro's ping, the Bombing Squadron peeled off. Taro marveled at how handy having his own Ship-borne Craft was, but he had to stay focused on EAP 2. If the Commander kept acting like a lunatic, Taro was prepared to abandon ship—metaphorically speaking. He wasn't going to lead his employees into a suicide pact. But if the Rising Sun fleet left, the whole front would collapse—they were twenty-five percent of the total firepower.

Taro prayed. He fired a second Railgun volley, locked onto a new target, and kept the fleet in formation.

"—Your logic is sound, however—"

Taro felt his soul starting to leave his body. Then, a spark of inspiration hit him. He played his final card.

"Commander, I have a very close, personal connection with Rin Barkhorn."

"Ahem! First and Second Shield Fleets, fall back! All other vessels, 145-degree turn! Target: the vicinity of the RS1 Fleet!"

Sakura Ma Takasaki, Vice President of Takasaki Shipbuilding, barked the orders and was immediately met with a deafening, awkward silence on her bridge.

"W-well?! Get a move on! Move, move, move!"

Sakura pointed a shaking finger at her adjutant. The man stared at her with a blank, fish-like expression for a few seconds before snapping to attention. "Understood, ma'am!"

Is it really possible that no one noticed? Sakura wondered. This encryption is terrifyingly good.

She checked the logs on her BISHOP. There was absolutely no record of her conversation with the RS1 Captain. The comms unit showed nothing but a weird burst of static; the system hadn't even registered it as a transmission.

"Captain, if I may," her adjutant said, looking skeptical. "At this trajectory, won't we be heading right for the enemy’s warp-in zone?"

Sakura gave a haughty snort and jabbed a finger at the Radar Screen. "We’re going to rescue our allies and evacuate. The enemy's main fleet is on the way; we have no chance in a direct confrontation. We are reclassifying this mission as reconnaissance. We must bring this data back to the main force!"

She recited Taro's words verbatim, sounding every bit the decisive leader. Her adjutant began to tremble, his eyes welling with tears.

"Lady Sakura... You’ve become so... so magnificent! Everyone, did you hear that?! It’s a reconnaissance-in-force operation! Move it!"

As the adjutant began bellowing at the crew, Sakura felt a wave of relief wash over her. It had been years since she’d seen this man, and she was glad he was still as easily impressed as ever. More importantly, her secret deal with RS1 was safe.

Has it really been five years?

Memories of her chaotic days at the Takasaki Shipbuilding Epsilon Branch bubbled up. Sakura had been born with a silver spoon—no, a platinum spoon—in her mouth. As the daughter of a corporate titan, she’d had everything. Her bloodline even included Imperial nobility. She was used to people kneeling.

That ended when she was sent to the Epsilon Star System.

The Imperial core didn't care about her last name. It was a shark tank of meritocracy. She had tried to play the same corporate games she used in the Alpha Region, and the results had been a total train wreck. She had almost been forced to shut down the branch entirely. It had broken her, but it had also forced her to grow up. It took five years of grinding, but she’d rebuilt the branch and clawed her way to Vice President.

But I guess that's the problem, she thought bitterly.

Five years in the pampered heart of the Empire had taught her about business and ships, but it hadn't taught her how to survive in the "Wild West" of Outer Space. War didn't happen in the core. WIND didn't exist there. If there was trouble, a security company handled it.

No use crying over spilled milk. But what now? Should I ask him again?

She glanced at the comms unit. She didn't know who the President of Rising Sun was, but the man clearly knew how to fight. His profile said "Transport Company," but that was obviously a lie. No delivery service in the galaxy made up half its fleet with top-tier Warships.

"Teiro Ichijo... Ichijo? Sounds like he's from the Alpha Sector. Or it's an alias. Honestly, who is this guy?"

She scowled at the lack of data. Even her ship’s illegal third-party databases had nothing on him. For a man to be this "invisible" in the digital age, he had to have some serious backing.

Imperial Military... probably some black-ops unit, she decided. Yes, that must be it. It's the only thing that makes sense.

Satisfied with her own headcanon, Sakura reached for the communicator again. She remembered an old proverb her father used to quote.

"For mochi, go to the mochi maker," she whispered.

She still had no idea what a "mochi" was, but the sentiment felt right. She hit the button and executed the Cipher Function once more.