Chapter 77

When the universe decides to throw a massive curveball, it usually starts with a really awkward silence. In the middle of that dead air, Taro’s brain was redlining as he tried to sift through his very limited, very desperate options.

"This is the Plum to all ships! Which of you buckets of bolts are actually capable of warping?!"

Parameters for every ship in the fleet flooded the monitor. Alan, captain of Bird One, and the captain of Bird Two didn't even bother wasting breath on a verbal reply—they just updated their status icons to do the talking.

"One, two, three... Alan! Take the five ships that can warp and get back to station defense immediately! The rest of the fleet is being folded into Bird Two. I'm counting on you!"

"This is Bird One, copy that. We’re beginning drive prep now."

"Forget 'now,' do it yesterday! I’ll handle the math!"

The second the words left his mouth, Taro squeezed his eyes shut and dove headfirst into the BISHOP interface.

[DATA LINK ACCESS REQUEST // LEVEL: MASTER KEY]

[SYSTEM ACCESS // LEVEL: MASTER KEY]

This was the "god mode" data access known only to the absolute top brass of the Rising Sun. A massive tsunami of linked information—incomparably larger than anything he’d handled before—surged into the Plum II’s storage banks.

[HIGH-ALTITUDE WARP STABILIZER DETECTED // COUNT: 6]

[TARGET COORDINATES // SPACE RESERVATION: COMPLETE]

[LINKAGE OVERDRIVE // PRE-STANDBY]

"Alright, get moving! Don't let the Station Defense Force have all the fun!"

Fed by Taro’s insane calculations, the six vessels kicked their Overdrives into gear simultaneously.

Normally, a Linkage Overdrive required a disgusting amount of processing power compared to a solo jump, but it ensured everyone arrived at the party at the exact same time. On a battlefield, jumping piecemeal was a great way to let the enemy turn your lead ship into scrap metal while the others were still in transit. Of course, Taro had managed to crunch those nightmare-tier numbers in about three seconds flat. Because, well, why not?

"Mr. Teiro. The enemy fleet has begun to maneuver. They are widening the gap."

"Dammit! Full speed ahead! All ships, prep for a broadside!"

"Teiro, at this range? You’ll be lucky to hit the vacuum of space," Marl pointed out.

"I know, I know! But we’re burning daylight here! Even if it’s a total fluke, a one-in-a-million shot is better than zero!"

Taro bellowed the command and, without waiting for a rebuttal, hyper-focused on his lock-on sequence. He tore through the sensor data from various scans, refining the enemy's coordinates until he had a microscopic fix on their position.

"They’re using scramblers for camo... and that one’s a dummy..."

He adjusted the fire control again, using the real-time data streaming in from Gon’s Reconnaissance Craft. At this distance, a tremor of a millimeter at the barrel meant missing by several kilometers at the target.

"All units, lock-on complete! Dammit, if the station gets trashed right after I took over the job, I’m never going to hear the end of it!"

Taro shoved the lock-on data through the link to the rest of the fleet. Following his lead, the ships began to vomit fire into the void.

"Marl, we aren't being stingy today, right?"

Marl gave a sharp, confident nod. "I’m not so socially inept that I’d try to save pennies during an apocalypse. Go nuts."

She flashed him a thumbs-up. Taro responded with a wink and slammed the activation keys for all six Railgun Turrets.

"Gon-san, launch all units. I’ll be updating the line-of-fire coordinates in real-time, so tell them to stay out of the 'bright glowing lanes of death.'"

Taro muttered the instruction just as Gon’s face popped up on the comms. The old pro let out a derisive snort.

"How many years do you think I’ve been sitting in a cockpit, kid? I can dodge a few beams in my sleep. Alright, you lot! Let’s show 'em how it's done! Put your backs into it!"

The Plum II’s Drone Bay hissed open, and a swarm of Fighters spilled out like angry hornets.

[FIGHTER CONTROL RELAY FUNCTION // SIMULTANEOUS ACTIVATION: 12]

The four pilots of the Cats took point. Taro spun up the relay functions to process and return their data streams in real-time. Suddenly, the three Support Fighters escorting each Bomber began to dance through space as if they were extensions of the Cats' own limbs.

"We’ll be back before you miss us! Just keep those target markers coming!"

The Bombing Squadron screamed away from the Plum, eating up the distance to the enemy with terrifying speed. Between his own railgun shots, Taro played air traffic controller, painting targets for the bombers.

"Teiro, I’ll handle the bird-dogging for the aircraft. You just focus on the big guns."

"You're a lifesaver. Koume, how’s the enemy looking?"

"No change, Mr. Teiro... wait, correction. The enemy formation has split. One group is breaking off and heading directly for us."

Taro clicked his tongue. A stalling tactic? Seriously?

"Huh. So the guys running away are the ones keeping the Warp Jamming active?"

"Affirmative, Mr. Teiro. Does that pose a problem?"

"I see, I see. Very clever. Isn't that right, Marl-tan?"

Taro turned back to Marl with a predatory grin. She caught his look and mirrored it with a wicked smile of her own. "I’m way ahead of you."

"Plum to Bombing Squadron! Change of plans! Take the scenic route around the interceptors and shove your payloads right up the tailpipe of the rear group!"

"This is Cat One, copy that. So we're just ignoring the guys trying to kill us?"

"We’ll handle the welcoming committee over here. Just do your job!" Taro chirped.

The Bombing Squadron banked hard, pulling a wide flanking maneuver to bypass the enemy interceptors entirely.

"Target E02, heavy damage. E04, moderate damage. Your accuracy with those railguns is honestly frightening, Mr. Teiro."

"Phuehehe! Though at this range, I’m firing the next shot before the first one even hits. It’s a literal headache."

Firing a second volley while the first was still in flight meant doubling the number of projectiles he had to micro-manage. With the unavoidable time-lag of long-distance control, his "accuracy" was basically a mathematical miracle. Still, it was a hell of a lot better than the Beams, which were currently being bent into useless pretzels by the enemy's jamming.

"Detachment to Plum! We’ve intercepted the enemy clear of the station. We are currently engaging."

Alan’s voice crackled over the radio. Taro let out a massive, lung-emptying sigh of relief and wiped a layer of grease and sweat from his brow. Beside him, Marl seemed to deflate into her seat with similar relief.

"Bombing Squadron has engaged targets... E04 is confirmed sunk. E08 and E09 have sustained damage and are dead in the water. Overdrive Strength has recovered to 64%."

Taro pumped his fist. "Yes!"

"This is Cat Three! My Shield Support Ship just got its bell rung and dropped out. I need a fresh one, stat!"

"Cat Two here, same situation!"

"This is Plum. Acknowledged, units. Sending replacements now. Keep the pressure on!"

Marl took over the comms, handling the nitty-gritty of squadron management. Deciding she had things well in hand, Taro poured the rest of his processing power into fleet support and sniping.

The tide of the battle turned into a total landslide for the First Fleet. The WIND interception force—which honestly didn't seem built for a straight-up brawl—was systematically erased by the fleet’s concentrated fire.

"You really made me sweat for that one, you bastards! Now go join the debris field!"

Taro’s final railgun shot punched through the last fleeing vessel, and the neon light-show of beams finally flickered out.

The ships that had been chasing the enemy with Taro warped out the moment their drives cleared, rushing back to join the Station Defense Force. For a hot second, when the Plum was left floating alone with four enemies still on sensors, Taro had briefly regretted not keeping a Consort Ship around. But now that it was over, it was a total, flawless victory. However...

"We’re going to need to rewrite the entire defense manual, aren't we, Mr. Teiro?"

WIND’s tactics today had been disturbingly bold. This wasn't just "reactive" maneuvering like they’d seen before.

"Yeah. These guys were head-hunting from the start... What the hell is going on? They’re evolving way too fast."

This had been a "proactive" operation—a calculated attempt to seize the advantage before the first shot was even fired. Even though Taro had won, the enemy had held the leash for most of the fight.

"Evolution, huh... I hate that phrasing, but it’s spot on. The thought of facing a full-scale fleet acting like this... it gives me the creeps."

The three of them shared a grim nod. If they kept relying on simple "see enemy, shoot enemy" tactics, they were going to get their legs swept out from under them sooner or later.

"...Oh, Alan checked in. They’ve finished mopping up. One Destroyer with heavy damage, one Frigate with heavy damage, and two with light damage. They took a real beating."

"Casualties?" Marl asked, her voice tight.

"Lots of bruised shins and broken arms, but miraculously, zero deaths. Phew. Thank god for that."

Taro reclined his seat, letting his vibrating nerves finally settle. He felt like he’d been hit by a freight train, which was weird, even for him. Then it clicked.

Oh, right. Micro-managing a dozen carrier wings while sniping across half a solar system. That’ll do it.

"Controlling the fighters is a real drain... but damn, they’re effective."

"Indeed, Mr. Teiro. They are likely the reason our losses remained so low. Plus, the system BB Makina built worked like a charm. It wasn't all bad news."

"If those reinforcements hadn't warped in when they did, Alan’s fleet would be a collection of floating coffins right now. Good work, Teiro. We’ll take it from here. Go to sleep."

Taro gave a shy, tired nod at their praise and slowly closed his eyes.

He had a mountain of work waiting for him—revising defense plans, reorganizing the fleet, probably a hundred hours of paperwork. The thought was already giving him a migraine. But for now, the void could wait. He just wanted to rest.