Just by looking at it from the horizon, you’d want to say “whoa” at how dense the forest appeared to be.
Lichen-covered ferns and maki trees grew thickly, reminding one of the flora used during Earth’s mid-term planetary greening period to increase oxygen levels.
In fact, it was precisely the same. Both were sturdy and easy to propagate, so they were planted en masse, then either converted into organic fuel or incinerated via orbital bombardment once their purpose was fulfilled—but it seemed they simply remained as they were.
If this was the Forbidden Northern Woods, then surely there must be something hidden within. Even with adaptations made to thrive in high latitudes, no one ever intended for them to grow this vigorously without maintenance.
Sure enough, it seemed the Elves still resided here.
Just saying that gave it an instant air of mystery, which highlighted the peculiar nature of human perception. With dozens of filters, countless biases, and various adjustments, even truly dangerous things can come off as enchanting.
Nevertheless, Elves—Elves! It’d be great if we could make peaceful contact.
“This could be problematic.”
“Looks like we might need a recon satellite.”
That said, any functioning satellites up there are either long gone or intentionally hidden in case of emergencies, rendering them unusable. To us, who once connected to vast communication bands and common memory fields through them, sharing all data, the world now feels far too confined.
We haven’t dared to check yet, for we might only get back static, and there’s even the risk of a mass ordnance dropping. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if a satellite or two survived?
At the very least, it would be ideal to have the capability to launch our own artificial satellites.
That aside, if we could achieve that, it would mean venturing into space, thus resolving one of our major objectives, making detailed surface observation unnecessary.
“Shall we proceed, Chief? This is our domain after all. Despite slight differences, we can still conduct reconnaissance.”
Ridelberdy made the proposal, but as the high-resolution video feed from Selene’s Dicotomus-4 Type I concluded, I shook my head.
“Humans may be hostile, but that doesn’t mean we can instantly ally ourselves with Tech Gobs. We must gather more information thoroughly.”
“But lingering here doesn’t accomplish anything.”
“That’s why we’ll perform reconnaissance.”
As I spoke, a small reconnaissance drone was launched from Selene’s Dicotomus-4—not the usual box-shaped chassis equipped with tiltrotors, but a spherical unit the size of a ping pong ball with dragonfly-like wings.
Lightweight, compact, producing minimal heat, and operating at low noise levels. With only six hours of operation and a radio range of approximately 30 kilometers, it is ideal for covert surveillance. Known as the Type B Standard Reconnaissance Drone, it is a widely used reconnaissance drone accompanying most outer exoskeletons, becoming operational once advanced factories and electronic warfare units were enhanced. It lacks certain military requirements but boasts one undeniable advantage: you can afford to lose them.
Being simple and straightforward in production, even if captured, it divulges no critical information while still meeting minimal specifications. It’s truly a reliable set of eyes for frontline soldiers.
Despite its small size and unique flight patterns—often employing random evasive maneuvers—it earned the nickname “Fruit Fly,” though it’s likely the designer was inspired by dragonflies.
“Would you like to view as well?”
“I can never get used to this vizor, even with one eye.”
When I handed over the small visor created to allow for stereoscopic vision, his body swayed left and right, presumably due to adjusting to the swift maneuvers and viewpoint of the launched drones.
“Ooo, wooo, oh… They’re fast!”
“Their size enhances the sensation. Their top speed rivals that of a pack wolf.”
The launched ‘Fruit Flies’ moved in pairs, mutually surveilling each other. Half patrolled above the trees, while the rest silently entered the forest.
Inside the forest, conditions were standard—trees flourished, and scattered flora and fauna established a thriving ecosystem, cycling nutrients efficiently. Small animals such as squirrels roamed, nibbling on buds and insects, while decomposers diligently processed fallen leaves and dead wood for nutrients.
Standard packaging indeed; there was a sense of anticlimax given the absence of unusual creatures. Truly, it was an ordinary forest.
Even tales of an ogre residing here failed to convincingly impress…
“Unit 8 lost!”
“What’s this?”
Just as we were relaxing, one of our drones was downed.
“This isn’t electronic warfare. It was physically shot down.”
“Dammit, Unit 7 is down too!”
Both instances occurred almost simultaneously. Despite the routine established for the Fruit Flies to cover each other’s blind spots—given their limited 240° vision—they failed to detect the attack.
How could anyone visually detect these drones flying at supersonic speeds? Even without optical camouflage, their small size and speed should make them nearly invisible to pre-humans under normal conditions. Speed, in essence, functions as their armor.
To take out two drones simultaneously from a blind spot without detection would require considerable weaponry.
Perhaps specialized drone-hunting drones or anti-drone weaponry must be involved…
“And now Units 5 and 6 are lost!”
“Wait! Units 3 and 4 are going underground to check…! What?! Units 3 and 4 lost as well!”
“Impossible! They were supposed to be hovering at high altitude!”
“Please wait. I might be able to analyze footage from Units 1 and 2, which were mutually surveilling each other.”
Damn, low-cost expendable units are useful until they encounter superior firepower, which renders them ineffective. This time only thanks to our numbers; we lost half to gain a mere clue, a poor return indeed.
We really need a radar capable of mapping space.
“Are those… arrows?”
“Come now, they were traveling at 200 km/h. Not even a shotgun could take them down. Moreover, Selene, our sentry drones were 500 meters high!”
“But the data doesn’t lie, sir.”
What is projected before us is the slow-motion footage taken by Drone 1, and yes, inexplicable as it may seem, arrows struck drones 3 and 4, piercing through and causing them to explode before ascending upward and disappearing from sight in an instant.
What in the world could achieve such speed? What power strikes them down, penetrates through, and keeps moving forward?
“Units 1 and 2 lost!”
“Argh, enough already!”
With drones executing random evasive maneuvers being consecutively shot down, we must assume the enemy possesses reflexes and combat capabilities akin to Type B prosthetic bodies. And these arrows likely belong to the Second-Class Fatal Armament, the same used by the Magius Geanaite. A single shot would easily pierce through a Type C human body. Even with an exoskeleton, it would still be perilous.
“Remaining units are continuing to be shot down!”
“Being ambushed isn’t my style, but there’s nothing to be done about it.”
I disconnected from Dicotomus-4 and climbed into the exoskeleton stationed at the rear.
“What are you doing, sir?”
“It’s the only way to personally test if we can engage peacefully.”
“That’s dangerous!”
“Relax, Selene. This body can be easily replaced.” Luckily, the current design allows for escape even if heavily damaged, and with drone retrieval and a backup force in place, things can be managed. We must properly utilize the advantages of mechanized humans.
“Here we go again with your reckless ways…”
“Are you still dragging around memories from when you were Type C, becoming overly protective, Selene?”
As I slipped into the cracked back, the internal AI sensed that my body was in place and locked the exoskeleton. Instantly, connectors extended from the neck, instantly linking me. In mere seconds, the operating system connected, and the start-up protocol was complete. With a Type C armored exoskeleton—even if wearing a civilian prosthetic—I wouldn’t easily die. Thanks to upgraded sensor systems, I won’t have to go through horror movie experiences like the Magius Geanasite. After all, it’s just a casual greeting. There’s no need to worry so much.
“Besides, our approach might’ve been a bit too direct. It wouldn’t hurt to show up in person as a gesture of sincerity.”
“Please bring at least some backup.”
“I differ from you; my unit is replaceable, so I don’t want you to take unnecessary risks. Though if it comes to combat, we can’t avoid it. However, we wouldn’t want a large force arriving and being mistaken for hostility.”
I decided on minimal weaponry—a railgun in my thigh holster and a monomolecular atomic blade on my waist. From Dicotomus-4’s rear, now standing on four limbs at 3 meters high, thanks to shock absorbers in the hips and knees, landing was hardly felt.
“Seriously, why don’t you ever listen?”
“Thank you for your concern.”
Though Selene insisted firmly on combat readiness with the rest of the team, I proceeded alone to the forest’s edge.
If we truly encounter beings incapable of communication, only engaging in mutual slaughter, it cannot be helped. However, if it’s merely a difference in communication methods, we should aim for understanding. We are, after all, a part of the higher alliance, a group ever eager to bring intelligent beings into our fold whenever possible.
And they’re Elves! Elves! To burn a forest for 2000 yen worth of CG footage would be such a waste.
What kind of meeting awaits us? I’m looking forward to it already.
“Nozomu! Count me in!”
“Please command the tank unit so you can assist us immediately in case anything happens, Galatea.”
“But!”
“Having you here is reassuring, and your role in the rear guard is equally as valuable. Please.”
I stopped Galatea, who had descended from the “Sashigame” commander seat to join me as a bodyguard. It’s reassuring to know there are capable people in the rear. Especially her, with her software installation, has better responsiveness compared to the Tech Gobs and Sylvanians who must deal with complex control systems.
“Alright, shoot immediately if it becomes dangerous.”
“Understood. You’re authorized for discretionary firing.”
With such a reliable comrade’s authority vested, I headed toward the woods with my heart brimming with excitement……
【Exoplanetary Exploration Field Note】The Type B Standard Reconnaissance Drone, nicknamed “Fruit Fly,” is a small reconnaissance drone widely used for clearing dangerous indoor spaces, aerial spotting, and guard duty, commonly installed on most exoskeletons.
Designed with the concept of being inexpensive and not worth grieving over its destruction, its destruction is even viewed as a part of reconnaissance activities.
Updates for 2024/08/24 are scheduled around 15:00.
