Episode 235

That’s it for the apology spree. I look forward to your continued support! m( )m

“Hey, hey, that’s quite the bonfire. That’s one of ours, isn’t it?”

Clad in a pilot suit and helmet, Taiki of the Kato Tribe spoke while peering through the hardened glass of his bomber—well, technically a fighter-spec bomber, but it was complicated. Outside, a ship was engulfed in flames.

“That’s Chief Branson’s ship. Dammit, he was a good guy,” Gon, the leader of the Bombing Squadron Cats, crackled over the radio.

“We don’t know if he’s dead yet,” Taiki grunted. He shifted his gaze to the radar display, which was currently stained a terrifying, solid red. “How many of these bastards are there? Don’t tell me they’re all manned. If they are, we’re never making it home.”

By "manned," Taiki meant whether actual humans were at the sticks rather than AIs or remote drones. In a close-quarters dogfight where split seconds decided life or death, the presence of BISHOP created an insurmountable gap in lethality. BISHOP allowed a pilot to see into the near future.

“No idea. But judging by their maneuvers, I’d guess maybe thirty percent are meat-filled. As for the count, Plum’s data says about six hundred.”

“Wow. I hate that data. I’d like to return it for a refund, please.”

“Oh? Well, I’ve got even better news then. The carrying capacity of the enemy’s fleet carriers is over two thousand. Word is they aren’t at full capacity, but we should expect at least a second or third wave.”

“Ha! Hilarious. What makes them think they aren't fully loaded?”

“The timing. They arrived too fast. It means they’re carrying a mountain of propulsion fuel and drive particles instead of extra craft. They traded toys for speed… Alright, enough chatter. Let’s get to work.”

In the slots where beam launchers usually hung, Taiki’s craft now carried four earred spheres equipped with small rotary air-to-air turrets. Accompanied by twenty drones, they accelerated into a magnificent formation flight.

“Cha, Old Man Yuki, stay on my tail. Focus entirely on support. Taiki, you’re free to roam. You work better that way anyway. Take eight drones with you.”

Gon barked instructions, punctuating them with sharp hand gestures.

“You know me too well,” Taiki said with a smirk. He peeled away from the other three, banking his craft toward a different sector. Is there a moron around here somewhere? No, that one’s no good. Already dropped his payload.

Taiki scanned the sky for a juicy target, but most of the prey nearby had already fired their launchers. The Cats’ mission was to protect their allies, which meant prioritizing enemies that still had their big guns attached.

“Taiki, target of opportunity at your eleven o'clock high. We’re going to intercept the ones diving on the Cruiser Caspan.”

“Found 'em. Roger, Boss. On my way.”

A pleasant G-force pressed Taiki into his seat as he banked. It gave him the comforting sensation of actually being in a ship. In his opinion, battleships like the Plum were so stable they felt like sitting in a stationary building.

“Count is… thirty ships. Whoa there, you guys are in an awful hurry. That’s a bad habit.”

Taiki executed a wide flanking maneuver around the squadron heading for the Caspan, then dove, grazing the top of a craft that was a fraction too slow to react. As they crossed paths, he let loose a punishing volley from his underslung turret.

“Nice! That’s two down. Well, one was my drone’s kill. Still, that rumor about their commander being a mind-reader might be true. These guys already had their turrets swiveling toward you before you even moved.”

“Is that so? Then the plan’s working. By the way, the enemy’s using Lancer-types.”

“Tch, figures. Was that Cha’s call?”

“Yeah.”

“Dammit, if he says so, it’s true. We can’t beat them in a straight drag race. Stay sharp.”

“Copy that. You too.”

Taiki yanked his craft into a turn that would have turned a human’s internal organs into jelly, pouncing on his next victim.

“Haha! This is insane! Our boss really is a freak of nature.”

Taiki laughed at the sheer absurdity of his HUD. The moment an enemy entered his range, the lock-on was completed instantly. It was a pilot's dream. The Cats’ craft were data-linked with the Plum, and the mother ship’s processing power laughed off the enemy’s jamming. The turret fire was hitting with almost comical precision.

“I might actually have to worry about ammo at this rate… Dammit! They clipped me! Which one was it?!”

Taiki felt the vibration and saw his shield gauge dip. He yanked the stick back, entering a steep climb. The crushing G-force made the corners of his mouth droop, and a bit of drool escaped his lips.

“The controller is… You!”

Ignoring the drones trying to follow his turn, Taiki focused his fire on the one craft that was beginning to lag behind his erratic movements. Since he was a Kato, the only things that could keep up with him were either a drone that didn't care about physics or another Kato.

“Lock. Fire!”

Bolts of light streaked out. An enemy bomber disintegrated. Immediately, the surrounding enemy drones began to wander aimlessly. As expected, he had taken out the operator.

“At this rate, they should just map the trigger and the lock-on to the same button. I’ll suggest that in the report.”

Muttering to himself, Taiki picked off three more drones in rapid succession. Suddenly, the remaining enemy drones pulled an acceleration maneuver that even Taiki couldn’t match, fleeing back toward their main force.

“This is Cruiser Caspan. We’re in your debt. Thanks for the save.”

“Yeah, yeah. Do me a favor and tell the President to give us a fat bonus after the war.”

Taiki gave his wings a jaunty waggle for the Caspan’s crew and accelerated toward his next hunt. The enemies he’d been harassing seemed to have abandoned their assault on the cruiser and were repositioning. He could have chased them, but against high-speed Lancer-types, the relative velocity would eventually zero out. In space, that was the same as standing still, which meant he couldn't use the Kato Tribe's natural sturdiness for high-speed maneuvers. Besides, there was no reason to take the risk.

“Plenty more fish in the sea. This is gonna be a long day.”

The satisfaction of the kill evaporated the moment Taiki looked at his radar again. The sheer number of red dots was enough to make his stomach turn.

---

“Whoa, whoa, this is bad. There are so many of 'em. Are we actually gonna be okay?”

The man sitting in the anti-air control rig muttered in disbelief. He was tucked into a cramped, spherical booth where the walls were covered in screens projecting a panoramic view of the battlefield.

“It looks like the final boss fight in Super Combat 8… Man, the graphics are amazing. We aren't actually inside the turret, right?”

A voice drifted in from the adjacent booth—another gunner on the anti-air team. The man glanced at the open door behind him. “Well, obviously not.”

“True. If we were out there, we’d be a hundred percent dead the second a beam hit the hull. That’s how it worked in Super Combat, right?”

“Actually, in the Spacom 3 prequel, it was like that. They were recreating ancient ships, so instead of screens, you looked through hardened glass at raw space. One-hit kills and no extra lives. That difficulty was legendary.”

“For real? I didn't start until 5. Let me borrow 3 sometime, I’m curious.”

“I don’t care what you’re curious about! Shut up and shoot! They’re already on us!” a voice roared over the comms.

“Ah, right. Our bad,” the man said casually, gripping his controller to begin the slaughter.

“Wait… Uh, Chief? Like, half my screen is being blocked by the Techno Break. Is it bad if I shoot it?”

On the screen of the gunner aboard the Battleship Cherry Boy, the Battleship Techno Break—which was currently coupled to them upside down—loomed large.

“Ugh… Just try not to hit it. It’s small-caliber stuff, so the shields should bounce it off. Probably. Look, it’s better than letting a launcher hit us, so if you have a shot at an enemy, just… close one eye and pull the trigger.”

“You’re serious? This is total Hard Mode… WHOA! HERE THEY COME!”

Light flared from an incoming enemy bomber, and the screen flashed blue. The man reflexively squeezed his eyes shut and braced for impact, but of course, nothing happened.

“YOU IDIOT! FIRE BACK! YOU’RE SAFE IN HERE!”

The Chief’s roar brought him back to his senses. Right, forgot. He scrambled to resume control. Calculating the predicted future positions provided by BISHOP, he accounted for distance and muzzle velocity, then opened up with the small-caliber beam gatling gun.

“D-dammit! That should have hit! Is there lag?!”

The man cursed as the enemy bomber zipped past his reticle.

“It just means the enemy’s future-prediction was better than yours. Heh. I already bagged two,” the voice from the next room bragged.

“Shut up!” the man snapped, his eyes going wide as saucers as he hunted for a new target.

“Correction,” the Chief chimed in. “The ones you hit were drones. The maneuvers on the manned ones are insane, so don’t get cocky.”

A dejected “For real?” came from the next room, making the first man feel slightly better.

“Whoa, the top’s really spewing fire now…”

An enemy launcher had apparently connected with the Techno Break on his screen; explosions were rippling across its hull.

“Maybe we should bail? There are like two hundred ships diving on just us. They’re totally targeting us specifically.”

“For real?” the man replied to his neighbor, already picturing his escape route. “Why us? If they’re men, they should go for the flagship!”

“No way. Nobody goes for Teiro-san’s sector. That guy’s anti-air curtain is freaking legendary. You can’t even call it ‘thin’ as a joke anymore.”

“Seriously? You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah, I saw a replay in the simulator. It’s not human. He’s operating forty batteries simultaneously. It doesn’t even make sense. Guess what his hit-rate T-score was?”

“I dunno. Over 80?”

“No. 102. I literally laughed out loud. Nobody even says ‘102’ these days… It’s gotta be a Gift or something.”

“For real? That’s cracked.”

“Yeah. Cracked.”

“Super cracked.”

“SHUT UP, BOTH OF YOU! FOCUS! OUR LIVES ARE ON THE LINE!”

The Chief’s roar silenced them both. The man knew the Chief was right, but he couldn't shake the feeling of detachment. Other than the question of whether this was actually "reality," the situation was identical to playing his favorite games.

“I mean, I’ll do my best… but is it really gonna matter if we shoot down a few? There are as many enemies out there as there are people at the Alpha Star System Animation Festival.”

“The Imperial Military’s First Mobile Fleet doesn’t even have that many ships…” the Chief sighed. “Fine. If you guys actually pull this off, I’ll give you a bonus. What do you want?”

“For real? Honestly, I don't care about money. I just don't want to die.”

“The Alpha Star System is Rising Sun territory,” the Chief said, his tone turning conspiratorial. “Exerting influence over the Animation Festival would be child's play. What if I promised you every single new release you wanted? Guaranteed?”

The two men suddenly became the undisputed ship-to-air aces of the fleet.