Its massive form towered in the distance, beyond the horizon, about several days’ travel away.
[“The Great Mother! It’s the Great Mother! Who would have thought that in my lifetime, I’d actually get to witness the Great Mother!!”]
Ridelberdy and the other Tech Gobs were so overcome with emotion that tears streamed from their camera eyes—perhaps it was cleaning fluid or something—because far on the other side of the horizon was the object they revered and called the “Great Mother.”
It was a single “orbital starship,” its stern jutting vertically upward.
The Tiamaat 25, a Class B Type Three Special Engineering Vessel of the Galactic High-Order Sentient Union Integrated Military. Stretching 2.6 kilometers in length, 400 meters in width, and weighing 200 gigatons, it was a large vessel serving as a factory ship responsible for manufacturing general supplies for a fleet.
Its interior was packed with 3D forming factories that produced a vast amount of daily necessities and expendable weapons, alongside raw material blocks crammed inside to the point of bursting. Although it nearly lacked combat capability, it was the second most important ship after a flagship, capable of sustaining a detached flotilla all on its own, and how it ended up in such a place was a mystery.
“It seems like it attempted a soft landing.”
“Yes, it appears that way. The stern thrusters are completely destroyed, and about one-fifth of the hull is buried, but considering it’s a ship that cannot navigate within an atmosphere, it put up a pretty good fight.”
In principle, our Integrated Military orbital starships do not possess atmospheric flight capabilities.
This is because, based on physical laws, in space, where weight isn’t an issue—though inertia isn’t completely negligible either—everything can be made larger, so they simply aren’t built to overcome gravity. Of course, there are heavy-assault carriers designed with large anti-gravity systems to enable flight, but these are generally carried internally or towed by their mother ships to planets, often being around 500 meters in length and weighing around 5 gigatons, which makes them relatively “small.”
And yet, this ship, five times larger, had managed to descend without collapsing the ground beneath it. Whether it fell two thousand years ago or not, it’s incredible that it hasn’t collapsed under the 1G gravity. Impressive design, courtesy of the High-Order Union Design Bureau, or something to that effect.
“Still, what a monstrous entity. It looks like these creatures, the Tech Gobs, really are being spawned from there, just as their legends say.”
“Given Tiamaat 25’s production capabilities, that’s entirely possible. Though, I must say, I am perplexed as to why the ship would have created Tech Gobs in the first place.”
“Only the numerical self-consciousness controlling the ship’s systems would know that.”
Our ships usually have numerical self-consciousness embedded in them, and quite often, they’re managed independently by these systems. In other words, that ship over there also has its own self-conscious entity, like Selene here.
Well, assuming it’s still alive, that is.
“Hey Ridelberdy, there are several types of flying vehicles I’ve never seen before. What are those?”
Yet, it was baffling how they had arrived here. The area surrounding the Tiamaat 25 was teeming with Harpies, and there were unknown creatures flying nearby as well.
If one were to liken them to something, they were rather like the griffins from fantasy tales. Their heads were replaced with large rectangular visual sensors, wires sprouted from various parts of their bodies, their legs resembled aircraft landing gear, and three-barreled electromagnetic projectile cannons were mounted on their abdomens.
“…We’ve never seen these either.”
“If they’re flying, then they’re probably not nameless monsters then, right?”
Well, this was troublesome. We were aware there were large creatures, but we hadn’t expected to face creatures this monstrous.
There was no way the Coil Gun could penetrate them. Firing concentrated shots would merely ricochet off their armor plates, and receiving retaliatory fire from their electromagnetic projectile cannons with much faster initial velocity than our weapons would probably result in annihilation.
Moreover, while only one was nearby, we could see several of them flying closer to the Tiamaat 25. Without a way to easily neutralize these “griffins,” infiltrating into the “Great Mother” would be impossible…
“Hold on. Selene, can you switch to thermal sensors?”
“Eh? Alright.”
Via the wireless connection, I switched to the drone’s vision and toggled into heat observation mode, confirming my suspicion. That griffin-like creature was equipped with a mini fusion reactor.
In the High Order Union, low-temperature nuclear fusion reactors are an extremely common power source cherished for its safety and small size. Advances in technology have made these reactors smaller and safer, so much so that they’ve become a daily power source, even powering cybernetic prosthetics in common use. It seems impossible that the Harpy’s battery could lift those bulky bodies, but bingo!
And with a power source, there are possibilities…
“Say, Ridelberdy, you know how you’ve wielded the ‘Holy Lance’ before? Can you try firing it?”
“Are you serious? I can hold it because I have the terminal connection, but it takes the prayer of five prayer masters just to activate it! It’s absurd!!”
When I asked, Ridelberdy responded with a string of curses, berating my senselessness.
I see, so they’re generating electricity through prayer and using it to fire the lance. Truly, magic seeps into every aspect of this world… though they probably don’t realize it themselves. Could these five people really generate the electricity equivalent of a power plant just through dance? That’s enough to power an entire town.
So, perhaps there is magic in this world, in ways I cannot perceive.
In which case, I must rely on the tangible “science” instead.
“Sorry, Selene, hang on a sec.”
“Huh? Captain, what are you…?”
I pulled out my multi-tool and began disassembling my coil gun, exposing the battery connectors and connecting them to multiple magazines in quick succession with wires.
A coil gun is a weapon that can increase its power with voltage. While its size and current output are limited due to ease of handling and preventing damage, it can, with reckless use, boost its power with additional batteries.
The Fire Control System started screaming warnings about non-recommended operating conditions, the dangers of overcharge, and pressure limits, but I ignored them all with admin-level permissions.
[Everyone, step back]
“Captain! That’s insane!!”
“Just hit it once, that’s all. Just hit it!!”
Switching the multi-tool to a knife mode, I plunged it into the nearby ground and braced my arm on it, planting my foot into the ground and securing myself against the recoil.
“Nozomu! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Galatea, move back too! The recoil might blast you away!”
As my companions scrambled to safety, I discharged the dangerously overcharged coil gun without hesitation.
A supersonic bullet tore through the air, and almost simultaneously, the coil gun exploded. The barrel ruptured, the grip melted, the batteries ignited in flames. The recoil sent me flying backward, spinning into the air.
The world spun—once, twice… my inverted vision captured the bullet tearing through the creature’s head. The impact scattered internally, causing the frontal armor penetration to lose momentum as it ricocheted around inside, destroying internal mechanisms and sparking fires everywhere.
Finally, the griffin-like monstrosity lost control and plummeted unsteadily back to earth.
“Haha, did it!”
“Captain! What an absurd thing to do! It’s a miracle you’re even alive! Ahh, thank you, T. Osamu!!”
“Without taking it out, we would’ve had to retreat. It couldn’t be helped.”
After rolling several times and finally stopping against a bush, Selene shouted at me. The damage warning windows flashing red in the corners of my vision showed the humanoid damage representation of my body, with its multiple parts glowing red in warning. My palm was scorched and severely blistered, chunks of flesh had been worn away, and shrapnel from the exploded coil gun was embedded in various parts of my body.
[“…! ………!”]
“My ears! ……! ……!?”
I could no longer hear the voices of Ridelberdy and Galatea, who had rushed toward me in concern. Oh, so my eardrums must’ve burst.
Using my hands to wave them off, I reached into my waist pouch to pull out a revitalization agent and injected it into my neck. With this, the physical damage should heal quickly.
“Captain! What are you doing?! There’s no replacement for your body at this moment!”
“Itai-tai-tai… I get it, Selene. I don’t plan to leave you by yourself; I’m striving to be with you for a long time.”
With my eardrums ruptured, I can only hear Selene’s compressed wave language screaming. My partner is overprotective, but I do understand her concerns, so I’ll endure the scolding quietly.
Ah, well, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this much pain. Usually, I can select and edit it out, but this Type D prosthetic body isn’t very dexterous and thus troubling.
Pain, they say, is proof of being alive, but it’s truly quite a bother.
I picked up the multi-purpose tool, blown away by the recoil—this thing’s sturdy enough to make me envious—and ran towards the fallen creature. Since my eardrums were burst, my balance became unstable, but the cybernetic balancer worked to override the issue. Approaching the creature and confirming it had lost its heat source, I cut open its belly.
Lo and behold, the cherished low-temperature fusion reactor—a misshapen ball the size of an apple, its tangled cords appearing very organ-like—was still operational where a heart would typically be in a biological being.
I felt like jumping for joy. Detaching the wires, I connected to its terminal, overriding control to claim the reactor and carry it back.
By the time my eardrums had healed and I could hear the outside world again,
“Are you alright?! Nozomu! You’re covered in blood!!”
“Don’t worry, Galatea, the wounds are sealed with the holy medicine.”
“But, but it must have been painful!!”
“Of course pain can be endured, can’t it?”
While allowing Galatea to fuss and fondly checking the wounds to ensure they were sealed, I turned towards Ridelberdy.
Then I pointed at the “Holy Lance,” carefully carried by the other warriors nearby—If this device works, it’ll surely handle large swarms.
[“Ridelberdy, if you consider me a warrior, would it be alright if I touched that Holy Lance? I won’t damage it, not with the esteemed title of Honorary Warrior you’ve granted me.”].
Since they are claiming they can’t leave behind such an important object, let’s put it to work. If we connect it to the fusion reactor, it’ll function as it should, unleashing its true power!
“Whooof, this is heavy…”
[“You lifted the Holy Lance alone…!?”]
The lance weighs about 80 kilograms? Its awkward hexagonal column shape and too-short tripod are of no help, and the lack of a proper grip leaves me no choice but to cradle it. But somehow I manage to brace it.
And look at this! The gun actually has a fire control system built in! The OS is slightly different, but I rewrote the code, forced a connection, and made adjustments. The FCS now displays the charging status and hazard radius in tandem.
[“Alright, give me some space!!”]
I aimed the Holy Lance at the Harpies swarming in the sky and checked the charge status.
At 45%, less than half, but it’s plenty enough.
I set the fire control to lower its output to 30% and to fire only for two seconds, considering the firepower the Tech Gobs had used before. For Harpies, this should suffice.
“Alright, here goes!”
I pulled the virtual trigger and awakened the “charged particle cannon.” Inside the barrel, two electron accelerators spiraled and accelerated heavy metal particles, sketching a spiral before unleashing an invisible mass of power.
Though affected by the planet’s magnetic field, the invisible charged particles continued straight ahead, powered by the 15GW output of the accelerator operating at near-lightspeed, cutting through the gathered Harpies, turning them to vapor instantly.
Soon after, the cannon’s heat exhaust panels opened with a loud clank as cooling began.
My companions around were dumbstruck after witnessing the swarm of Harpies vaporized with a single shot.
[“W-What is this? The Holy Lance, something that five prayer masters struggle to activate, and here it’s activated by just one person…”]
[“He’s a hero! Nozomu isn’t just a warrior! He’s a hero chosen by the Holy Lance!”]
The Tech Gobs began to get worked up, and even the Sylvanians, sensing something extraordinary, started dancing in jubilation.
“Nozomu… you have the gift of a Gear Priest! Becoming a High Priest isn’t beyond reach!”
“Not this again! Heroes, Gear Priests! I simply used the tool properly! Why does everyone get so excited about these things!”
Even as I shouted, the excitement refused to subside.
Selene’s comment, “Ah, he’s getting cocky again,” made little sense as I couldn’t help feeling slightly embarrassed, now bearing this nickname and the weapon capable of countering larger threats.
[End Note: Charged Particle Cannon as per the planetary exploration log is one of the “close attack options” in space. It’s primarily used to destroy approaching missile threats or large debris within a one light-second radius, but since it is heavily affected by the magnetic and geomagnetic fields on a planetary surface, it’s rarely used outside of outer space scenarios.]
The next update is scheduled for around July 13, 2024, at 7:00 PM.
