Episode 219

A man, one of the oversight members for Mercenaries Co., Ltd., stepped onto the bridge of the expeditionary fleet’s flagship in silence. He wasn't particularly enthusiastic about the report he had to deliver, but he couldn't deny there was a certain morbid curiosity drawing him in.

He wanted to see exactly how she would react to the news.

"Your sister is dead," the man blurted out the moment he stood before the woman who reigned at the absolute pinnacle of the company.

"Hmph. Is that intel solid?"

The Representative Director, lounging in a state of near-nakedness, sounded utterly bored. The man felt a twinge of disappointment at the lackluster response, but he kept his face a mask of feigned ignorance.

"The Strike Fleet Group is under Sod’s command. The chances of it being misinformation are... well, they aren't zero, but I wouldn't hold my breath."

The Mercenaries’ primary bread and butter was labor dispatch—specifically, the high-octane business of sending temporary combatants into war zones. Sod, who had headed the Security Department for this pack of warmongers for years, was a commander of undisputed talent. He was a cautious man, not the sort to fumble sensitive data.

"I see. That’s a shame. I actually liked her... Oh well."

Etta, the queen of the Mercenaries, let out a long, luxurious stretch atop her high-end plush seat.

"Whatever. It’s not like I’m short on replacements."

She let out a tiny, sharp laugh and waved her hand dismissively to shoo him away. The man felt a fresh wave of frustration that this woman he loathed remained so completely unfazed, but he turned on his heel to leave.

"Wait."

The voice stopped him dead. The man turned back, wondering what she wanted, and in that instant, every hair on his body stood on end.

The woman who had been lounging across the room was suddenly standing right behind him. He hadn't even seen her move.

"I’m tweaking the tactics. This requires approval from a set number of shareholders, so sign this for me, would you?"

She pressed a Pulse Chip against his chest.

"A-ah... right," the man stammered, his voice climbing an octave as he snatched the chip and practically fled the bridge.

"......"

He power-walked through the battleship’s corridors in a frantic, silent dash. Only after rounding a corner and ensuring the bridge entrance was well out of sight did he stop to take a ragged, deep breath.

It’s fine. Calm down. There’s no way she knows.

He muttered the words barely above a whisper, leaning his weight against the cold corridor wall.

The Naraza crowd are Outsiders. No matter how sharp that woman is...

A persistent sense of dread gnawed at him, and he stared intensely at the chip in his hand. Bracing himself, he pressed it against his forehead to interface.

"......"

After several long moments of processing the data within the chip, he slumped to the floor with a heavy sigh of relief. It wasn't exactly dignified for a man of his rank, but he knew this specific spot was a blind zone for the surveillance cameras. Besides, even if someone saw him, he was too drained to care.

"She certainly knows how to make my skin crawl... I see. Replacements might be easy to find, but that doesn't mean she isn't pissed."

He looked over the tactical revisions recorded on the chip and spat a comment at the empty air.

Listed under the tactical parameters was the Permissible Damage Ratio. It had originally been set at 50%. Now, it was 100%.

"It's about time, I reckon."

Inside a red Humanoid Weapon specialized for communications, the woman who currently held the most raw military power in the RS Alliance murmured to herself.

"If that guy's report is on the money, then yeah... Hey, Bella. Are you seriously going out in a HAD? You’ve been lounging around on the ship this whole time, haven't you?"

Squall, referring to Teiro as "that guy," spoke to his older sister over the comms. Bella shifted her weight in the cramped cockpit.

"I feel more at home in here," she replied. "Besides, according to the boy’s report, the enemy doesn't have any Carriers. This is way safer than being on a ship. The enemy isn't stupid enough to waste shots from a massive main gun on a single HAD."

Bella had scrutinized the combat logs sent over by Teiro and deduced that their opponent was a seasoned pro. On paper, it looked like Teiro’s side had snatched a victory at the last second, but looking at the flow of the battle, it wouldn't have been surprising if they’d been tactically annihilated.

She gave Teiro a fair bit of credit for his command; she didn't think the close call was due to any fatal incompetence on his part.

"Fair enough. More importantly, what’s the word from the old g— I mean, the old man? Right now, there are more people excited for a report from him than there are people waiting for a marriage proposal response."

Squall sounded utterly exhausted by the hype. Bella laughed, "No doubt about that," before adding a disclaimer. "But it probably won't happen."

"He won't make it in time for the final showdown. At the very least, not before we start trading blows with their advance unit. We just have to pray the enemy’s main force takes its sweet time getting here."

Bella’s smile vanished. She ran a hand through her long hair with a look of pure irritation. Squall looked visibly dejected, letting out a "Figures," before roughly lighting the cigar clamped between his teeth.

"The enemy advance unit is nearly double our size. High quality, too. Their lead is probably sharp as a tack. Do we even have a snowball's chance in hell?"

Squall blew a cloud of smoke toward the comms camera. Bella playfully poked her brother’s face on the monitor.

"Who knows?" she feigned. "Out here in the middle of nowhere, there’s not much room for fancy tricks. Although—"

Bella pulled a cigar of her own from her pocket—one she’d saved for a special occasion. She struck an igniter and lit it. It was a premium stick Teiro had gifted her, supposedly sourced from the Katsushika Star System.

"If the boy is playing his part as told, things might get interesting... Heh. It’s him we’re talking about. I’m sure he’s exceeding expectations as we speak."

She spoke with genuine affection, watching the purple smoke drift through the air. The way the smoke was sucked into the air conditioner's intake reminded her, somewhat poetically, of the movement of a fleet.

"What... what is this? This overwhelming presence! I am certain that I am currently witnessing a moment that will go down in history!"

On the bridge of the Battleship Plum, Teiro stared at the ship on the screen and shouted with over-the-top theatricality.

"Affirmative, Mr. Teiro. Koume posits that this is no longer a mere ship, but a work of art. Ah, how truly magnificent it is... the 'combination'!"

Standing right beside him, Koume emphasized the word "combination" with crisp, powerful enunciation. She was staring at the screen with the same intensity as Teiro, her face flushed with a look of pure ecstasy.

The screen displayed what they had dubbed the Battleship Oretachi. It was a makeshift monstrosity created by forcibly slamming the Battleship Cherry Boy and the Techno Break together. It consisted of the Techno Break serving as a literal pedestal for an upside-down Cherry Boy stacked on top of it. It was, by all accounts, bizarre.

"Hahaha! I knew you’d understand, Eccentric Super Robot Koume! The splendor of the combination! The raw power! The aesthetic perfection!"

Teiro threw his jacket over his shoulders, flourishing it like a cape. Koume gave him a profound bow before dropping to one knee.

"Indeed, Admiral. I wish to christen this the Super Battle Combination."

"Heh, I see. A name that makes me want to drop a merciless iron hammer of justice on someone... But wait, how about Supreme Combination? Simple, yet ultimate. Beautiful, right?"

"Excellent, Mr. Teiro. It sounds like a name that belongs in a death match against an Ultimate Combination battleship."

"It’s a Virgin Combination at best!" Marl’s voice screamed through the comms. "Listen, the launch prep is almost done, so start taking this seriously! The Cherry’s mass is going to soak up the recoil, so we can probably fire without the ships breaking apart. I assume you’ve actually finished the damn calculations on your end?"

Teiro gave a distracted "Yeah, yeah," while re-checking the firing calculations he'd finished earlier.

"Virgin Combination, huh... but if a virgin 'combines,' doesn't that mean they aren't a virgin anymore?"

"That is the absolute bottom-tier of dirty jokes! Shut up and fire already!"

Teiro gave the screaming Marl a breezy "Roger, roger," and began manipulating the fire control system linked to the Battleship Oretachi. He took aim at the enemy fleet positioned far ahead, using the precise coordinates Etta had calculated.

"Alright. Let’s do this. Any change in the beam path environment?"

"Confirmed, Mr. Teiro. Natural radiation interference is at 0.002. Bearing 33.4 by 55."

"Copy that. Compensating... Okay. Enemy coordinates?"

"No change. Their acceleration drop from Inverted Navigation is within the predicted range."

"Got it. Firing simultaneously with lock-on. Handle the comms lag for me, yeah? Here we go!"

Teiro slowly pointed his index finger toward the ceiling before snapping it down toward the front of the ship with gusto.

"Eternal Force Blizzard Cannon, fire! Let’s end this from outrange!"

The moment Teiro barked the ridiculous name he’d just made up, the command flashed to the Techno Break. The massive cannon mounted to the ship’s hull erupted, unleashing a colossal beam of pure light into the void.

It’s a bit short, but it’s a good place to stop.