Chapter 95

Gowen stood there, paralyzed and gaping like a stunned fish. He gnashed his teeth to snap his brain back into gear and roared at the poor lackey who’d brought the news.

"Something?! What the hell is ‘something’?! Be specific, man!"

"I don't know, sir! The sensors... they’re picking up some kind of flying objects!"

"Flying objects? Hold on!"

Gowen scrambled to access the ship’s data, pulling up the logs for the debris avoidance system. The high-end sensors on his Electronic Warfare Craft were top-of-the-line; they could sniff out the kind of minute details that would leave an ordinary ship blind.

"It’s debris... no, wait. The incineration beams aren't even touching them. Are they some kind of guided weapons? Hey! What’s the status on the Lock-on Jammer?!"

"I’m on it! I’ve been jamming them non-stop!" the subordinate bellowed back, matching his boss’s frantic energy.

Gowen flinched at the man's intensity. "Then why the hell are we still being locked on to?"

"Every time I break the lock, they’re back on us instantly! And it's every ship in the fleet, all at once!"

"What... are we up against a Spotter Ship? Keep breaking it. If we push to full power—"

"We are at full power! We’re cycling through interruptions and re-locks every single second! Every second, sir!"

The subordinate’s voice had climbed to a pitch nearing a literal scream. Gowen finally realized this wasn't just a bad day—it was a catastrophe. He didn't know who was on that other ship, but they were clearly some kind of monster.

Thirteen ships locked every second... and against stealth targets, no less...

Gowen’s mind raced, desperately trying to calculate a way out that didn't involve him ending up as space dust. The options were looking depressingly slim.

"Active Sonar is fully charged. Shall we fire?" the subordinate asked, looking up at him expectantly.

Gowen let out a low groan. He was the kind of commander who liked to toy with his prey through a meticulously pre-planned script. He was absolutely rubbish at improvising when the script got set on fire.

"...Captain?" someone else asked, their voice dripping with anxiety.

The various bridge officers were drowning in combat data, but the lack of orders was starting to freak them out. A heavy, awkward silence descended over the bridge.

"Activate the Stealth Generator," Gowen muttered.

"...Pardon?"

"Did I stutter?! Activate the Stealth Generator! We’re getting the hell out of here!"

Gowen was half-screaming now, fueled by pure desperation. Combat strategy had been tossed out the window; his brain was now 90% occupied with figuring out what kind of lies he’d have to tell his superiors to keep his job.

Over on the bridge of the Cruiser Plum II, Taro sat amidst the four members of the Cats. He stared blankly at the radar as the enemy signals began to blink out. His eyes were glazed over, his face a total mask of emptiness.

"Oi, President! We should probably skedaddle, yeah?" Taiki shouted. His brown fur was standing on end as he hovered over a combat console that was usually unmanned. The cats were currently strapped to their stations with belts and heavy-duty magnets, allowing them to keep working even while the ship pulled high-G maneuvers. "If they pop that thing off on the way out, we're toast!"

"Hey! President! You in there?!"

Taro jumped, finally snapping back to reality at Taiki’s roar. His consciousness had been buried so deep inside BISHOP that the sudden return to his own physical body made him twitch violently.

"A-Ah. Right. Yeah, good call... Looks like they’re tucking tail, so let's beat it."

Taro clutched his head, his skull throbbing with a localized earthquake of a headache. A high-pitched ringing echoed in his ears, bringing a wave of nausea with it.

"I gotta say, that was mental," Cha chirped from Taro’s feet. She looked quite pleased with herself. "Seriously, Boss, what is your brain made of? And this Central BISHOP Control System is something else. Even a dedicated Spotter Ship couldn't pull off locks that fast."

"Ahaha... honestly? I have no idea," Taro muttered. He gave her back a gentle stroke before scooping her up into his lap to brace for the jump. He sent a quick Identification Signal to his Consort Ships and got an immediate ping back from a nearby station. They were safe.

[OVERDRIVE SYSTEM: ACTIVATED]

The Plum II swung its nose toward the pre-calculated coordinates. Once Taro confirmed the Overdrive was engaging properly, he set Cha down and sprinted toward the Facilities Room.

"Marl! Is Koume—oof!"

The moment he burst into the room, Taro tripped over something and performed a spectacular face-plant. He scrambled to get up, but when he realized what he’d tripped over, he just stayed on the floor and pulled it into his arms.

"Koume! Are you okay?! Are you still alive?!"

He hoisted the familiar sphere with both hands, inspecting it from every angle like he was looking for a scratch on a diamond.

"I am quite alright, Mr. Teiro. However, I must say, staring so intensely at a lady's body is rather unbecoming."

Koume’s lamp flickered and she vibrated aggressively in his hands, clearly offended.

"Oh... whew... thank god..."

Taro slumped back, resting Koume on his chest and sprawling out on the floor like a starfish. Marl walked over, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"Good thing it wasn't one of the bargain-bin models. The multi-stage fuse did its job, so the internal AI circuits are fine. Only the Android Body is fried. She wasn't even knocked out."

"Indeed. I was fully conscious while being carried," Koume added. "My output systems were slagged, so I couldn't respond. But fufu... Mr. Teiro, your panicked state was truly a sight to behold."

"Stop! This is embarrassing!"

"Nonsense, Mr. Teiro. While it may be improper of me to say, I was quite touched. I have never regretted my lack of a recording function more than in this moment."

"She’s right, Teiro," Marl said. "No need to be ashamed of being worried. Though..."

Marl turned her gaze toward the Android Body leaning against the wall. From the left hand—where the ship’s interface cord had been plugged in—all the way to the shoulder, the synthetic skin was charred black. Her cute outfit was little more than scorched rags.

"I’m afraid the body is a total loss. The overvoltage cooked the components from the inside out. It’s beyond repair."

"Could we perhaps manage an overhaul, Miss Marl?" Koume asked. "Or at least salvage some of the more... modular parts?"

"Mm, by the time we replaced everything, it’d cost the same as a brand-new unit."

"I see... how unfortunate."

Koume turned her camera toward the blackened husk, her lamp flickering dimly. Taro lifted the sphere—which looked strangely lonely—and gave her a grin.

"Hey, don't sweat it. You're safe, and that's what matters. I'll buy you a new body and all the clothes you want."

Taro gave the sphere a gentle pat and a thumbs-up.

"Next time, we’re getting you a body with drill equipment."

"Oh? Drills? I like the sound of that."

"No! Why are you encouraging him?!" Marl snapped, giving Koume a light smack. The room filled with the sound of three voices laughing together.

Later, after Taro had returned to the bridge to handle the flight maneuvers, Marl picked Koume up off the cold floor and set her gently on the workbench.

"Alright, give it to me straight. Is it fixable?"

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Marl? As you can see, I am functioning within normal parameters."

Marl put her hands on her hips and sighed. "Koume, I’m a mechanic. I know exactly how much current can surge through a system in the split second before a fuse blows."

Her expression was a messy blur of anger and worry.

"...My apologies, Miss Marl. You caught me. A portion of the hardware control circuits have indeed been incinerated. I can roll around, but operating an Android Body will be impossible for the foreseeable future. The drive particle radiation caused a direct over-electrification. ECM is a terrifying thing, isn't it?"

"Hardware control... that was a close one. Can you fix it?"

"Yes. It may take a month or so, but it is manageable. However, I have a problem. I need a plausible excuse for remaining in this spherical form for so long."

"Yeah, after the way he lost it earlier, telling him the truth might not be the best move. Let’s give him some time to cool down. We’ll just tell him the surge left a few 'minor' glitches in a harmless area. A partial truth is always better than a flat-out lie."

"Understood. I shall take that under advisement... By the way, Miss Marl? Are you quite alright?"

Marl had leaned over the workbench, wrapping her arms around the sphere in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, Koume. Ships are built to keep humans safe, but they don't give a damn about the AI. I should have seen this coming. I should have protected you better."

"Please, do not trouble yourself, Miss Marl. It is only logical to prioritize biological life. It is not your fault. Unlike a replaceable AI, humans are terribly fragile things."

"Don't be a dummy," Marl muttered, giving the sphere another light smack. "There is no 'replacement' for you. Koume is Koume."

"Fufu. What a curious thing to say. 'Koume is Koume'?"

"That’s right. You’re our foul-mouthed, precious family. Don't you forget it."