The dense layer covering the celestial body, the atmosphere, subjected us to mere tens of seconds in baseline reality time from the moment we entered the gravitational pull upon touching the atmosphere’s edge.
“Flight Lieutenant Tōno, your copilot. We’ve broken through the atmosphere and are cruising smoothly. As there are no courtesy bags or blanket services, please ensure you’ve prepared all necessary items.”
“It’s light-hearted! Too light-hearted!!”
“All the kamikaze pilots are the same. On the contrary, this time around, Warrant Officer Kyōgoku and Flight Lieutenant Tōno are on the serious side. If jesting gets worse, some keep blasting loud music throughout the flight.”
Having effortlessly surpassed the Kármán line, the sakura-24 glided supersonic beneath skies that appeared green due to the planet’s properties. Flames burst from the rear main engine as the atmospheric thrust engines roared, boosting speed dramatically while utilizing the remaining momentum. The body encased within the heat shield was simultaneously assailed by a powerful horizontal G-force and a gravitational pull from below.
“Fast! Scary!!”
“Calm down, Galatea. Remember, this is merely the reconstruction of a memory. It doesn’t physically affect us, and it’s from a battle we survived.”
“How can you remain so calm?!”
“Ah, I was actually quite anxious back then to land quickly.”
During the descent, neither Selene nor I experienced any particular discomfort due to the brain interface with the craft. But if we were from the old human lineage, we’d have been pulverized instantly. It was precisely because Galatea wouldn’t have survived the intense pressure of full immersion that we didn’t subject her to it.
After all, the sakura-24, which genuinely sprays its thrust enhancement device, is an insane machine capable of flying at “Mach 24.” Its design concept revolves around traveling at a speed unmatched by any tracking systems while maintaining an altitude that makes deviation shooting difficult, all to evade interception. The idea is so over-the-top, so muscle-heavy, that it raises the question of how much force is enough.
However, this brute force proves effective in reality; very few crafts get shot down after initiating acceleration.
This craft’s weak points are the moments it slightly decelerates to form a formation and the period during entry when trajectory adjustments aren’t possible. Once inside the atmosphere, its speed serves as thick armor, deflecting most attacks.
Nonetheless, coasting leisurely like this won’t do.
After all, the kamikaze pilots’ job is to deliver us, the cargo in their bellies, to our destination.
“Ahem, this is Captain Kyōgoku. We are cruising calmly within enemy air supremacy. We are about to penetrate their anti-aircraft network. Please remain seated until the seatbelt sign is turned off. Also, please ensure no luggage is left in the aisles.”
“Altitude! The altitude is dropping fast, Nozomu!?”
“Of course. If we were dumped from above without defense, we’d just be easy targets.”
The landing craft that had been flying in formation broke away from a cluster of accompanying air superiority fighters shortly after the attack craft pierced the thermosphere. Each vessel began its wild descent toward the ground, leaving erratic trajectories in their wake while executing random evasive maneuvers.
The dive resembled a suicidal plummet, with the gray and green ground rapidly growing larger and becoming clearly observable. Below, anti-aircraft positions were established, armed with self-propelled guns and tank divisions aimed skyward, ready to repel the incoming craft with everything they had. The silhouettes of “sweeping boats” and “cruisers” were clearly visible, all prepared for the assault.
“See that, Galatea? That’s the enemy position.”
“Kyaaa!? There are so many!??”
The ground bristled with an overwhelming density of firepower. Six units of amphibious vessels were positioned there—standard models from the Lyra Sector Trade Union, but top-of-the-line as they were deployed on the first planet of the Aladphar star system. Despite living with limited time, these units had trained extensively, evident from how they responded with fierce counterattacks even against our electronic warfare measures.
“Knew it was going to be a tough battle from the briefing.”
“Lieutenant, we are ordered by the battalion commander to take down the southern perimeter sweeper vessel, code-named ‘Target-E.'”
“This is our battlefield, the integrated military ground forces. It is a response to the modern warfare question that ground units with fixed positions can no longer withstand aerial attacks easily.”
“H-how intense…”
With the advent of easy satellite orbit attacks, permanent surface bases had become outdated. The frontline bases of modern combat were fiercely shooting to prevent our approach. However, at our speed and with electronic warfare interference, no fire control system (FCS) could track the Sakura-24 assault landing craft.
The group of assault craft, teasingly weaving between the harm range of wildly dispersed artillery shells, entered the assault upon receiving orders from the battalion commander.
“This is Captain Kyōgoku. We are about to begin our assault. Please double-check your seatbelts, passengers. The flight will last only forty to fifty seconds in baseline reality time, but I hope you enjoy this brief journey through the skies.”
The almost invisible gaps between attacks. By maximizing the clock cycles, the computational speed calculated gaps that lasted mere fractions of a second. Only the reckless daredevils known as kamikaze pilots could achieve such maneuvers.
The brief shake the craft experienced was likely due to a near miss from an artillery shell. Pilots referred to such moments as a “graze,” which transport pilots, unable to add to their kill count, proudly counted as kill marks.
While it’s odd for us, who thrive by getting dangerously close to the enemy, to commend their craziness, the fact that they fly so close to death—within a few millimeters of disaster and still meet their standards—reveals their truly disoriented minds.
However, we at that time were past the point where such considerations could impact our sanity and instead turned our focus to inspecting the craft for the upcoming battle in the future, which would last less than a minute.
“Alright, here we go. Selene, craft check.”
“Main engine critical stability confirmed, data link normal, all actuators preheated. Full armaments in place. All systems green, Lieutenant.”
“Good, the Wjitak-6 mobilizes.”
The red visual element lit up. As if in tandem, the visor that both guarded and supplemented the helmet descended, and the explosive bolts connecting the heat shell to the craft activated.
“This is the official arrival of our craft. All electronic devices are now available for use. We sincerely thank you for choosing this flight.”
The directional G-force shifted from sideways to diagonal as it traced intricate patterns, combining free fall with inertia. Upon reaching an altitude of 1,000 meters, the shell burst, and the once beloved craft, the First-class Assault Mobile Weapon known as Wjitak-6, was hurled into the void.
“It resembles the guardian deity…”
“That’s because this craft served as the basis for the creation of that figure.”
Emerging into the skies of Aladphar Prime, the craft shared many visual similarities with the Titan 2. Nevertheless, this machine, named after ancient heroes and incorporating the collective wisdom of the higher intelligence league, was vastly different internally.
The silhouette was largely similar, but the chest and head armor resembled an ancient armored knight’s rounded form. Even as it was equipped for ground combat, each part was fitted with thrusters to enable high-speed battle maneuvers—subtle but distinguishable differences even to an uninterested observer.
Above all, the armaments were significantly more advanced.
“Heat stealth activation. Commence electronic warfare.”
“Understood.”
In accordance with my past instructions, Selene initiated the protective armaments of the First-class Assault Mobile Weapon.
“It’s… invisible!”
“That’s because it’s painted with such coatings.”
The body, adapted for space combat, was blackened with electromagnetic paint that functioned as heat-stealth camo. Upon activation, the craft optically mimicked the surrounding environment, creating an illusion of transparency, simultaneously dispersing gases to camouflage the surface temperature of the armor as atmospheric temperature.
Meanwhile, Selene scattered jamming signals, rendering radar targeting difficult, effectively eliminating the brief window of vulnerability upon landing. Consequently, the lively barrage of anti-aircraft fire crisscrossing the skies with tracers didn’t fiercely welcome us as it could have. Still, some unlucky companion crafts exploded mid-air; however, thanks to their high-survivability design, there were no fatalities, only detachments. Everyone focused on the assault on the target, leaving recovery for later.
Adjusting posture with thrusters in mid-air and activating the anti-gravity units to ensure a soft landing, the craft’s thermal shell’s base moved forward aggressively toward the artillery position…
It was here that I broke the memory synchronization.
“Wha, what!? Nozomu!?”
“The rest is too intense; I’ve cut it out.”
Surprisingly disrupted, Galatea looks up, startled. The subsequent scenes are genuinely gore-ridden hellscapes that I cannot show her just yet.
You see, a 10-meter-tall mobile weapon mauling through a battlefield filled with infantry results in some gruesome outcomes. Especially here, during this campaign, I recalled sliding into position and performing an Autumn Leaves technique—decapitating an entire armored infantry squad. It was too much to let her witness outright.
Given her exposure to such intense combat and the extensive armaments, I thought it might be too much for a young girl to endure visually, even if she possesses courage and resolve.
This is not a dismissal of her determination. Merely, everything, including combat exposure, requires pacing. She wouldn’t last if overwhelmed at once.
Thus, I decided to stop here.
“…Nozomu, you really treat me like a child, don’t you?”
“I’m not disregarding you. I merely believe in gradual progression.”
“Un, but, it does help somehow. Frankly, I was overwhelmed by the intensity. Seeing huge ships and your guardian deity performing spectacular feats—it was a lot to take in at once.”
As she says this, she falls on her back, shielding her eyes from the sunny sky with her arms.
“It was incredible. So, that’s it, huh? That’s your real battlefield, Nozomu. No wonder ours seems so gentle.”
“It isn’t gentle. There’s still death, still threats.”
As I ask if things will continue to escalate rapidly, she whispers, her eyes still hidden below her arm.
“…I, when I saw that ship, I was scared.”
“Scared? You’ve done splendidly, stopping enemies with valor. What’s the issue?”
“However, your battlefield grows ever more intense, ever larger. I worry that I will become useless, a liability. I fear the day my participation might become my weakness.”
Understanding this concern, I refrain from mocking her.
She is partially mechanized through her secondary brain, yet remains an old human. Up until now, she’s only experienced warfare on planetary surfaces, against adversaries like giant dragons. Now, within less than a year, she’s thrown into such brutal scenes. There must be moments where she fears she won’t keep up.
That said, there are some misconceptions I need to correct, fellow warrior.
“I can’t fight alone either. Neither the Sylvanians, the Tech Gobs, nor you can ever become useless. The only fear is losing you.”
“But…”
“First, those who slowed us on that battlefield are human, just like you. With updated equipment, you certainly have what it takes to fight. Don’t underestimate yourself, comrade.”
Her head tilts slightly, her one uncovered eye peeking at me cautiously, checking if my words hold truth. When I smile earnestly, her gaze softens into something warm, content, and catlike in its tenderness.
“Everything feels distant now. But your role is essential if I am to return safely, Galatea.”
“…If you say so, I’ll believe you, my saint.”
“Strong words.”
Our capabilities, though distinct, rely heavily on teamwork. I’ve achieved past victories because of this. It’s touching to be trusted, but excessive overconfidence poses its dangers.
Individual differences are inevitable, but ultimately, volume trumps all else.
As I sat idly tapping my heels on the edge, I could hear her calm breaths behind me. Turning back, I find that Galatea had fallen asleep, her arm shielding her eyes.
Yesterday, I woke her up late, and since then, it’s been a flurry of aftermaths.
Searching for something to cover her with, I tiptoed quietly so as not to wake her, heading toward the docked Dicotomus 4 to find something suitable………
[Planet Exploration Supplementary Notes] Despite the large individual performance gaps, the Higher Intelligence Alliance, having tasted defeat multiple times, never underestimates the combat capabilities of old humans. They admire these beings, who unlike themselves, face battle without hesitation, knowing that their mechanical bodies cannot be repaired once destroyed.
Tomorrow’s update remains undetermined.
Your feedback not only enhances the quality of the work but also inspires the author. Any comments would be sincerely appreciated.
