Episode 228

"Heh... Heh-heh-heh... Worked like a charm."

Slumped in the Captain's Seat, Taro wore a smug, punchable grin as he watched the Radar Screen reflected in his visor.

"I’d say we shaved off nearly forty percent of their fleet. Handling four hundred ships with almost zero damage is great and all, but the cost-effectiveness is abysmal. I never want to do that again."

Marl spoke with a look of pure relief. Taro was on the same page, so he flashed her a thumbs-up. "Tell me about it."

She wasn't exaggerating. The bill for this operation was astronomical. Because they’d had to Drive such high-mass objects over a massive distance, they’d been forced to scour the surrounding sectors and buy up every fixed Drive Particle on the market. Sure, Drive Particles naturally increased over time, but making them artificially portable was a wallet-murdering endeavor.

Still, disabling a force that outnumbered their own was a massive win. According to Dr. Arzimof’s math, it would take at least two to three weeks for the natural particle density to recover enough for the enemy fleet to Drive again.

"The Doctor’s investigation is moving along nicely, too. Besides, those guys over there don't even know when his results are coming out. We can't just sit around and wait for them to catch up," Taro said, sounding incredibly pleased with himself.

He glanced at Marl, who was nodding with satisfaction, and then shifted his gaze to Koume. The AI was being strangely quiet.

"..................Mr. Teiro, do you have business with Koume?"

Tilting the head of her Android Body, Koume gave him a wide-eyed, exaggeratedly innocent look. A cold sweat broke out on Taro’s neck.

"......Personal experience tells me that when you’re this quiet, it usually means something terrible is about to happen."

"Oh my, Mr. Teiro. If you have grown weary of the mortal coil, you only had to say so. Koume would be delighted to support your exit with all her might."

"Ahaha, I’m not quite bored enough to die yet... Wait, did you just tell me to kill myself?"

"No, no, perish the thought. On a completely unrelated note, I have recently added a new function to this Android Body, Mr. Teiro. Don't you want to know what it is? You do, don't you?"

"No, I really don't. And I can clearly see you’ve attached a drill to your left hand. Also, that didn't change the subject at all!"

"I must disagree, Mr. Teiro. The dual-hand attachment system has been standard equipment since my purchase. The new feature is that I can finally reverse the rotation of this drill. Is it not magnificent?"

"I don't care! I don't care from the bottom of my soul!"

As the two of them descended into their usual bickering, Marl let out a heavy, world-weary sigh.

"The battle isn't over, and we're still outnumbered, Admiral."

"This girl is acting way too human lately... Yeah, I know, Marl. But if we keep using these multi-stage tactics to scatter them across Area B, they’ll be totally stuck. We’ve got this, right?"

"As if it’ll be that simple. I actually agree with Koume’s concern."

Marl shrugged, her lip pouting. When Taro threw her a confused Koume’s concern? look, she silently pulled up the access logs for the Data Bank on BISHOP.

"The Mercenaries' past combat history? Why are you digging this up now?" Taro asked, keeping his tone light. Koume turned a serene, mask-like face toward him.

"To be precise, these are the records for the De Ild Samasa 2, Mr. Teiro. Since it and the Fleet Carrier serve as that corporation's primary capital ships, the records are notoriously vague. Mr. Phantom and the Naraza Association have gathered as much as possible, but we have reached the limit of our intel."

"Well, it’s classified stuff. I’m more surprised you managed to get this much."

"I concur, Mr. Teiro. However, one does not simply build a Super-Dreadnought just to have more room for armor and Beams."

"True. But I hate to burst your bubble—if you think the size of the ship is proportional to the size of that, you’d better manage your expectations before you get hurt. Guhehe."

"That was a truly pathetic attempt at a dirty jo— My, what a magnificent spinning back kick, Miss Marl. At any rate, it stands to reason that with such a massive hull, the cargo capacity must be astronomical. I wonder what exactly they’re hauling in there?"

"Dammit, Marl... quit aiming for the kidneys..." Taro groaned from the floor. "What else would it be? Ammunition and supplies. They’re on an expedition, after all."

"Particle accelerators for Beams require almost no physical ammunition, Mr. Teiro. They aren't like this ship. By the way, is the Samasa 2 equipped with extensive Carrier modules?"

"No, I don't think so. It's not a modular ship, so they couldn't just slap them on... wait. Wait a second. Are you serious?"

A sickening feeling hit Taro’s gut. He scrambled up, snatched his visor off the floor where it had rolled after the kick, and bolted back to his seat.

"Plum to RS3! Give me the Drive Particle readings! What’s the fluctuation range?"

Taro barked the question at the Survey Ship, which was bristling with scanners. A few seconds of silence passed before the reply came.

[THIS IS RS3. PARTICLE CONCENTRATION IS STILL TRENDING DOWNWARD, ADMIRAL TEIRO.]

"R-Right. Okay, that’s good... Wait, are there any anomalies in the data? Any weird spikes or dips in the graph?"

[NEGATIVE. NO SUCH SIGNS HAVE BEEN DETECTED THUS FAR... HM? LET ME SEE THAT... AH, ADMIRAL, STAND BY...... WHEN WAS THIS TAKEN?]

Muffled shouting echoed over the comms. The holograph of the RS3 Captain flickered in Taro’s visor as the man frantically looked between his displays. Finally, the Captain turned back to the camera.

[APPROXIMATELY FIVE MINUTES AGO, THERE WERE TWO MOMENTS WHERE THE RATE OF PARTICLE DECAY SLOWED DRASTICALLY. THE DURATION WAS ABOUT 170 MILLISECONDS EACH. BOTH FALL WITHIN THE MARGIN OF ERROR, BUT—]

The Captain looked like he was about to dismiss it. Taro’s face contorted in horror. He slammed his hand onto the fleet-wide broadcast.

"Dammit! They’re coming! All ships, full power retreat! Get us out of here!"

Taro screamed into the mic.

And the moment he did, it happened. Even the Plum, with its modest sensors, could now easily detect a massive surge of dense Drive Particles erupting from the vicinity of the enemy Super-Dreadnought.

---

"Heh. They’re panicking..."

Etta of the Mercenaries chuckled as she watched the BISHOP Communications scrolling in the distance. "Still, based on the readings, it looks like they've deployed at least five hundred large Drive Shooters. I wonder where they got them? We have no reports of large Carriers in the area. Does the delivery industry really use that many Shooters?"

The Overdrive Shooter—a transport device that utilized Overdrive—was essentially a ship-sized jump engine. They were notoriously expensive.

"No, Shooters are terrible for standard cargo. The acceleration from continuous Micro Drives would liquefy the contents. Since they own inhabited planets, they're likely into primary resource development. That's where Shooters are most common," the Reporting Officer replied, wiping sweat from his brow.

He looked immensely relieved. They had narrowly avoided disaster by dispersing the massive stockpile of Drive Particles stored within the Samasa 2. If they hadn't, he likely would have been the one to take the fall. No one ever knew where Miss Etta’s wrath would land.

"I suppose that makes sense... Oh well. More importantly, the enemy is as competent as the reports suggested. Their retreat order went out right before we dispersed the particles. Admiral Sod actually provided some decent intel for once."

Etta leaned back in her seat, relaxing. Victory was now just a matter of time.

"It was also Admiral Sod who suggested installing the Additional Tanks for Drive Particles before we departed. Perhaps we can overlook the failure of his preemptive strike now?"

The Reporting Officer, perhaps feeling a bit too bold in his relief, chimed in. Etta’s gaze snapped to him, cold and sharp.

"Indeed. But for a lowly Reporting Officer to be evaluating his superiors? You’ve certainly grown bold."

Her voice was like ice. The Bridge fell into a deathly silence. Every crew member suddenly found something very important to look at on their consoles, handling the controls with exaggerated care. The Reporting Officer clamped his hand over his mouth and stumbled back a step.

"Hey. You."

Etta tilted her head, peering into the man’s face. The officer swallowed hard, his throat making an audible gulp straight out of a comic book.

"Y-Yes?" he rasped.

"Your bandwidth is incredibly narrow. It’s hard to look at. Were you born that way?"

Etta saw the world through a kaleidoscope of Electromagnetic Waves. To her eyes, the volume of BISHOP data streaming from the man’s head was pathetic compared to a normal human.

"Eh? A-Ah, yes. That is correct. But I can perform my duties as well as anyone! I’ve trained to ensure a continuous output!"

The officer forced a desperate, twitchy smile. Etta gave a disinterested hum, but her mind was already scanning his files.

"Don't move," she commanded. She cross-referenced the Bridge sensors. "Weight, sixty-two kilograms. Biological signs confirmed. Human. Fine, I like you. Your record isn't bad either. For the duration of this battle, you will serve as my Adjutant. Work hard, and I might consider your 'treatment' afterward."

Etta believed that raw ambition and greed were the only things that truly moved people, and this man seemed to have plenty. His file practically screamed desperate for a promotion. His defense of Admiral Sod earlier was the kind of comment usually reserved for those much higher in the food chain; if it had slipped out, it meant he was already mentally living in a higher position.

Plus, and this was important to Etta, the man was quite easy on the eyes.

"We lost a lot of staff in that sudden all-out attack, so I'm short-handed. Well? Do you accept?"

She knew the answer, but she liked to hear it. The man stood dazed for a moment before his face split into a look of pure joy.

"YES, MA'AM!" he barked, his voice absurdly loud in the quiet Bridge.

"Good. Let's get to it... First assignment. We’ve managed to stop the enemy's delaying tactics with the Samasa’s particles. But there’s a catch. Do you see it?"

The new Adjutant straightened his collar and cleared his throat.

"Yes, Miss Etta. Since we can only perform Overdrive in the immediate area around the Samasa where the particles were dispersed, we've essentially created a traffic jam. Trying to fix our formation from here will cause a massive delay."

"Correct. That's one. Anything else?"

"Well... if the enemy keeps doing this, we might burn through our entire supply of dispersible particles. If we get separated in deep space without them, it’ll be a disaster."

"Keep going."

"Right. Using particles to jump the entire fleet at once is inefficient. If we narrow down the number of ships we’re jumping, the same amount of particles will take us much further. Since the biggest risk is running out when we need them most, why not split the follow-up force into a separate detachment entirely?"

"So, if the capacity is limited anyway, we might as well split them up now. No point carrying a heavy load if it stops us from reaching the destination... Yes. I like that."

Etta smirked. Her new Adjutant was proving even more useful than she’d hoped.

"This isn't a one-way Corridor. Even if it’s a detour, moving a separate force will force the enemy to split their own strength. Excellent. Coordinate the fleet in that direction."

Etta stood up, giving the man one more long, appraising look. Maybe having a man around won't be so bad after all, she thought, already daydreaming about exactly how she’d "enjoy" his company tonight.