“Fünf! Can you hear me!? Tell everyone! If you’re going to transfer, it’s over here!!”
Amidst the cacophony of artillery fire and the barbaric cries of the attack, it’s unclear if my voice is reaching them over the speakers at max volume. Regardless, the pitiful sight of her turns back to us.
After whispering something to her comrades, she leaps onto the deck of Tethys 7, and without hesitation, sprints and bounds the 150 meters to us in an incredible jump.
No way! That’s impossible! Even with her Elf-like physique, that’s an absurdly long jump—150 meters from an Aigaion-class cruiser! With that kind of physical capability, it’d be tough to make that leap even with the assistance of external skeletal enhancements for someone in B-type prosthetics!
“Nozomu! Why are you here!?”
“The forest was in danger, so we came to help! We’ve neutralized the big threat over here! Fall back quickly!!”
“Wait! Just hold on a sec!!”
Before I can finish, she sprints to the stern and frantically rips out two sticks from her hips. These sticks start to glow intensely as she swings them about. Covered in tree resin, they resemble torches, yet their brightness rivals that of an optical flare used for signaling under radio silence.
However, our visual sensors pick up something unsettling.
“Oh no, we’re running out of time!”
“Senior Officer! Warning! Multiple magnetic thermic weapons detected!”
This is bad—extremely bad! Most ships of this scale should be equipped with defensive measures to disperse magnetic interference and weaken plasma attacks. With that in place, we may have been able to withstand the assault.
“Themis 11! What about the anti-magnetic collapse field?”
“It’s already been damaged from the cannonade, and missile defense isn’t quick enough to intercept.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!!”
As I shout, plasma rain starts to pour down from the edge of the forest—almost simultaneously with my voice.
Damn! So the frontal assault was just a diversion to draw attention, while the real threat came from the hidden plasma-artillery team? Upon closer observation, those gathered around Tethys 7 seem to confirm their comrades were successful and are now jumping off the ship in escape.
It is death-defyingly brave of them to risk their lives like this!
“Sorry! They began to splinter our group, attempting to use these attacks to distract the enemy!”
“The heat intensity is much greater than when they attacked us!”
“It’s a 16-fold choral resonance technique! We weren’t planning on escaping!!”
While I don’t understand the specifics of this “16-fold choral resonance technique,” it’s clear that it’s on a scale meant for anti-ship combat. Damn! What were those gardeners thinking, infusing them with such ridiculous power? Had our equipment not been broken, we could’ve dissolved the surrounding magnetic field and rendered the plasma ineffective. But at this point, it’s futile.
“Hurry up and evade!”
“We’re doing our best, but the radius of the threat is too vast. Our estimated evasion success is only 12.7%.”
“Any damage outside of the vital zones is fine! Maintain the ship’s attitude to prevent capsizing!”
“Even then, our success rate is only 58.22%. Please prepare for evacuation.”
Numbers stacked against us—don’t push your luck! We don’t want to lose this ship, having barely claimed it as a major asset, but there’s no way we’re stepping out into that unordered rain of plasma!! Moreover, how could they even scatter the plasma with a spread pattern despite knowing their allies are attempting a close-range assault? Are they insane!?
“Fünf! Have your mobile comrades escape through the holes opened by the cannonade!”
“If we came out here prepared to die, can we at least trust you’ll follow our instructions?!”
Despite desperately waving her torches, Fünf gives up when the attack doesn’t stop and comes running to us. We immediately start opening hatches to accommodate other surviving Tupiarius. The number of survivors depends on the fate of each individual’s luck.
At last, “Tethys 7” seems to judge that evasive maneuvers are necessary and the anti-gravity units are activated, the ship beginning to elevate. However, the drawback of a land-type battleship is the sluggishness in picking up speed once stationary, especially if they weren’t pre-warmed. This heavy beast needs time to get airborne. Yet, plasma, with a heat surpassing that of stars, doesn’t wait for anybody.
“Steering at full capacity!!”
“Underway!”
While reflecting on how unhelpful it is to have an AI partner that doesn’t panic with you, I watch the remaining optical sensors being scorched by the intense light.
The world turns white, burning.
“Captain! Captain! Are you alright, Captain!?!”
“I… I’m alive…”
The plasma contact, unlike a cannonball, did not cause a thunderous explosion. Instead, it felt like a heated ball carving through the armor as if it were butter. Thankfully, the Command Information Center (CIC), where we’re located, remains undamaged.
“The upper structure’s gone! Can you see it?”
“Not good. Most of the sensor systems are dead. What’s the status of Tethys 7?”
“Almost entirely gone. It’s melted like cheese.”
Oh dear, that was close. Upon ordering the AI to perform a damage report, the ship had executed an extreme maneuver at the last possible second to preserve its functionality. As a result, two-thirds of the bridge and parts of the bow are annihilated. Consequently, our detection abilities are severely impaired, leaving us in a state of near-complete blindness and deafness.
The jammer, designed for electronic warfare, is still functional, allowing radar-dependent navigation, but without Selene’s guidance, we wouldn’t be able to proceed in a straight line. It was fortunate that Fünf persuaded the attackers to cease fire. Had they continued with their second and third salvos, we’d likely be fused into a failed art piece, with our armor and structure melting together.
Even so, the value of the ship we’ve barely claimed has drastically diminished, akin to the disappointment of grabbing a silver piece that turns into a pawn by the time you realize it.
Except, if managed correctly, even a pawn can be powerful. That pawn, the knight.
“Themis 11, is it possible to navigate with random evasive maneuvers? We need to distance ourselves from our current position as much as possible.”
“Captain, given the state of our sensor array, it’s extremely challenging.”
“Outside assistance from allies can connect via data link and follow their instructions.”
Though it is typically frowned upon for ships of the Zodiac Republic to connect through communication frequencies not specifically authorized by designated personnel from the same faction, continuing to stay still while blind and with a potential destroyer lurking around is an even worse option. Thus, we obey and deepen the data link, following Selene’s guidance to commence maneuvering.
“… Understood. We’ll follow your orders.”
“Good boy. Can I leave the ship in your care for a while, Selene?”
“Feel free to leave it with me. I’m well-versed in managing unruly ones.”
Who that unruly one might be is better left unsaid, and I disconnect the terminal.
“Ah… I thought I was going to die.”
“Me too.”
Galatea, who I’ve been clasping tightly, finally slumps, her vital signs showing elevated heart rates—so much so that her vitals are turning yellow. Around me, everyone seems to be taking on rather awkward positions, finally beginning to feel the stability of the ground—a much-needed relief after floating in space for prolonged periods. Clearly, this was too intense for those accustomed to walking on two legs with the ground beneath them.
[It still feels like the world is shaking… I think I’m going to throw up…]
[Spinning… So nauseating…]
“Ouch, hurts, must’ve hit something…”
Ridelberdy leans against the chair where the prisoners are bound, groaning—leaning upside down with his hands gripping the floor and feet tangled in the armrests, clearly struggling to keep his posture. Peter clings to the console using his sub-arms and main arms, leaving slight dents where he gripped. Falken, having missed the main handrails due to bad luck, was thrown against various surfaces, leaving his Gear Armor as misshaped as a battered potato.
Many others shaken around have found themselves in avant-garde artistic positions, and while everyone will suffer from bruises or sprains to varying degrees, remarkably, no one’s dead. Engaging in a suicide attack with only sixteen men against landing boats, carrying out artillery warfare with this thin armor, and then getting showered by plasma rain turned out to be better off than expected.
No casualties, what a sweet word indeed. This battle report, filled with such heartening text, might only match tales of successful bayonet charges and enemy command center captures in excitement.
“Selene, how about the artillery?”
“For now, it seems to have stopped. The Aigaion Class behind us probably hasn’t fully grasped the situation yet.”
“Thanks to the fog of war.”
The front-line fog we cursed so much for wanting thoroughly to dissolve now protects us as we distance ourselves from it. In a land where we cannot rely on satellites, situations where enemies remain unaware of unfolding events persist even after the development of faster-than-light communication technology.
The Aigaion Class, which surely struggled to coordinate with the front line, will require some extra time until they realize the futility of their aggressive strategy.
Reflecting in hindsight, Virgil should’ve been stationed farther forward. After all, a random piece can flip a sure-win game, something we’ve faced countless times—our operations ruined by unexpected reinforcements.
I understand the desire for safety, of course. After all, had they pushed forward recklessly, our target might’ve shifted to Aigaion Class instead—though whether we could’ve taken it down remains questionable given the sheer size difference.
Anyway, wait, is Fünf still alive!?
“Hold on, given that she jumped into a hatch close to the bridge and our sensors are down…”
“Warning! The bulkhead at Block IV Level 2 Section 9-2 has been forced open.”
On receiving the ship’s map, the mentioned area is near where she jumped in.
Ah, good, she seems fine—though the surrounding area is pretty much wrecked. I hope she stops any further destruction since the ship is already a mess.
“Themis 11, please open the bulkhead and bring her this way politely.”
“There are unidentified drones detected that are not registered in our military codes. I cannot recommend proceeding.”
“They’re allied special ops. No need to worry.”
With this offhand excuse, I manage to convince it, and the distant vibration of the ground confirms that the bulkhead is opening. If only the Tupiarius can enter calmly without further damaging the ship.
“NOZOMU—!!”
“Seems like I’ve gained a lot of admirers, huh?”
Approaching through the hallway, which should be spacious, Hyunf stoops slightly from the cramped space. Behind her are dozens of Tupiarius. Despite their battle fatigues being generally similar, each one has its own flair, though they’re all equally pitiable—coated in soot from the aftermath of the forest fire, with some having singed hair. Among them, a few appear to have taken fire in the initial charge, missing limbs or exposing internal structures due to missing armor panels.
This resilience to press on even in such a condition, unlike us who can regenerate endlessly thanks to intact brain cases, is incredibly admirable considering there’s no one to replace them.
“～～～～～～”
One gardener from behind her attempts to draw an arrow, but Fünf swiftly catches and crushes it—not just stopping them, but effectively destroying the weapon in hand.
“～～～～～～～～～～～!?”
“～～～”
Though their random-number-infused three-base and 15-base compression language is incomprehensible, I know what she’s saying.
Stop it! That’s what her stern voice commands.
Her usually smiling slit eyes are wide-open. The smaller pupil section in her camera-like eyes with the larger white sclera gives her an intense gaze, radiating battle-hardened warrior’s aura rather than the childlike figure she usually portrays.
Startled by her demeanor, the warriors who had readied their weapons take a step back, emphasizing that they had not armed themselves with anything.
…Hm? Until now, we’ve thought of her as a big child moving out of pure interest. Has she been respected as a seasoned warrior in her community…?
【Planetary Exploration Log】Among the Tupiarius warriors, the forest is considered more valuable than life.
Apologies. I’ve been extremely unwell and bedridden due to severe illness.
Tomorrow’s update is uncertain at this point. Thank you for your understanding.
