Flight of the Kaguya-hime
The hangar is busy with activity – the technicians are swarming all over Anhur, attempting to get it fixed in time for the operation. The right arm that was damaged when I piloted it is already fixed, so that's probably most of the job done. I can see Naim inside the open cockpit, recalibrating the combat frame to suit his own sensitivity. He flexes his arms and gauges the response of Anhur's own. Strangely, there is a perplexed look on his face. It looks like they haven't removed the extra propulsion units strapped to the frame's back and legs; if they did that, the entire balance of the mech would need to be retuned, and they probably don't have the time. There are also a few other maintenance staff getting the other pilot's construction mech battle-ready. They're loading the weaponry onto it right now.
I turn away and look around for the construction robot I'm supposed to pilot. There it is. No one's caring for it. It's standing alone in the corner like some neglected, sad little child. Well, I'm not surprised I don't get priority care. I should probably check on it myself anyway. As I walk over to it, slightly disheartened, a goggled-technician climbs out from the cockpit. Judging from the red hair and curvy overalls, it's Tabitha.
“Yo.” She gives me a two fingered salute. I return the favour.
“Everything's a-okay with your ride here, Senya.” grins Tabitha as she leaps down from the ten-metre high mech. She pushes her goggles down, letting them hang around her neck.“I took the liberty of getting your piloting data from the Anhur and calibrating the little one over here with it.”
I'm pleasantly surprised. “I was going to ask someone to do that. Thanks.”
“No thanks needed, but have you seen your own data?”
“No. Why, what's wrong with it?” Was it that bad, I wonder. I thought I did pretty well to get out alive in the first place.
“Nothing wrong... but what's with the sensitivity setting you were using? I've never seen anyone set it that high – hell, I didn't even know it could go that high.” My eyes dart away. Yua must have hacked it for me. Tabitha continues excitedly. “We forgot to check for it before Naim got in just now, and he pretty much crashed to the floor when he tried to move.”
That explains his look when I saw him in Anhur earlier.
“I don't know. It just felt right to me.” I reply. Tabitha arches an eyebrow at me. “Anyway, the construction mech won't be as responsive as Anhur no matter what magic I do with it, so you'll have to compensate for its slower movements out there.”
I nod. I look at the mech again; it's a ISC Heavy Industries G-81 model, a bulky machine with two heavy duty actuator arms protruding from the back in addition to the standard four limbs. The pilot usually switches between the two pairs of arms depending on what work is required.
“I've packed it with one of the prototype particle beam rifles and one mono-molecular dagger in the thigh storage compartment.” explains Tabitha. “Without connection to a powerful reactor like the one in the Anhur, the rifle will only be good for about 6 shots.”
I'll have to try not to miss.
“Senya!” I turn to see Kyrie running up to me. “What are you doing here?”
“I'm sortieing in the next operation. What, did you come to send me off?” I grin.
“Ah, no. I didn't know you were here. I saw you by chance...” she mumbles and looks away. Her eyes dart towards Anhur briefly, where Naim seems to have finished his calibrations. To put it simply, she came here to see him, not me. I wonder why she can't be a bit more honest about it. It's not like I'm going to get offended, nor should I, right?
“By the way, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be evacuating to the shelters about now?” I change the subject for Kyrie. She takes the chance gratefully. “Ah yes, that's right. I'm going to be on board the Kaguya-hime. So's my mother and the Higashi VIPs. They say they aren't about to let Captain Grimrock run off into space unsupervised.”
A smile passes across Kyrie's face. “They probably just think it's safer to be here than inside the emergency shelter.”
“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” I groan. “I hope the Empress doesn't try to interfere with anything.”
“It's too late,” sighs Kyrie. “She's already found a comfortable seat on the bridge.”
Thankfully, that's now Captain Grimrock's problem to deal with, not mine. I'll be busy fighting for my life out there, not trying to coordinate the mission with an outspoken and somewhat hostile Empress on the bridge. I wonder briefly which is worse. The siren begins sounding. The operation is about to start.
“That's your cue,” says Tabitha. “Good luck, Senya. Come back alive.” As she heads to her position, I spot Kyrie still looking at Naim.
“Aren't you going to go wish him luck?” I prod her. She turns to me with a start, an embarrassed look on her face. “What? Oh, no, I already- no, there's no need to.
You need all the luck you can get. Don't try to be a hero, Senya. I have no idea why you decided to do this in the first place. Just let Naim handle it.”
I laugh. “Don't worry about that.”
I don't have any intentions of being a hero at all.
***
The Kaguya-hime rumbles as it soars through the hole of molten slag that it had made in the colony wall. A violent flow of air accompanies it, along with bits of debris being sucked out into the vacuum of space.
I sit in my construction mech, awaiting the order to launch. The robot is powered on and the monitor panels are showing the feed of the hangar. All three of us have parked our mechs on the catapults that lead out of the ship. My intercom buzzes to life.
“Hoshikawa.” It's Naim. “You may have come up with this plan, but I expect my orders to be followed during the battle. I understand that the objective is to intercept the enemy frames and prevent them from reaching the Kaguya-hime. To that end, I will be in charge of on-site tactical decisions.”
“Alright, I got that.” I reply.
“I don't want any repeat of that bullshit stunt you pulled earlier with the Anhur, understand?” pushed Naim. “Stick with Jean and follow his lead. Then you might not get killed. Jean, we're going with Pattern Iota. No need for any fancy moves, just lay down fire support for me.”
“Roger that,” says Jean cheerfully. That's the other test pilot. “Stay close, rookie.” The gravity shifts as the Kaguya-hime pulls clear of the colony. I hear one of the bridge operators announcing the signal to launch.
Besides me the Anhur crouches slightly as it braces its feet against the catapult. I do the same. Naim and Jean launch first, catapulted into space. Then, it's my turn. I report my name, as they did, and receive the all clear to go ahead.
“We're ready to go, Master.” says Yua. I can tell she's nervous about this, but I'll definitely need her help in this.
“Hoshikawa Senya, sortieing!”
Again I find myself pushed back in my seat as the catapult throws my construction mech into the void of space. The weightlessness is something I'll have to get used to. Maneuvering is hard – the slightest movement throws my course astray. Keeping my hands firmly on the slave levers, I fall into formation besides Jean. We would stay behind the Anhur and fire upon the Centeotls to distract them, while Naim makes use of the combat frame's high mobility to pick apart the enemy formation.
I check the location of the Kaguya-hime and the Ghostlot. Everything is still progressing according to plan.
“Five enemy CFs detected straight ahead,” warns Naim. “Jean, execute Pattern Iota.”
“Roger.” Jean's response is curt, and he immediately pulls away towards the left. “Stay on my right side, rookie.”
track: mobile suit
The enemy comes into view. The Centeotl is similar in design to the Xolotl; squat and brick-like. They could almost be twins except for the thrusters that are attached to their legs for space mobility. The Centeotls moved five abreast in a straight line formation. They were painted entirely in white with red highlights.
“The White Fangs?” mutters Jean. “Why are they here?”
“Who are these White Fangs?” I ask.
“A band of mercenary UNS pilots that appeared about a month ago. They've been building quite a reputation for themselves.” grimaced Naim. “That doesn't matter, we have our job to do.”
“Make them scatter, rookie!” shouts Jean. He raises his particle beam rifle and fires a well-aimed shot at the center Centeotl; the leader, judging from the spiky antenna sticking out from the top of its head. With an agility belying its clumsy look, the CF spins downwards with ease, evading Jean's shot. Following his lead, I take careful aim and fire at the formation. The condensed, highly energetic particles in the beam tear through space at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light. It misses the Centeotls, but Jean and I are already firing our next shots.
Their formation breaks up. In their haste to dodge our attacks they did not see Naim bearing down on them, going at Anhur's full speed. He fires his own beam rifle, taking out the back thrusters of one of the Centeotls. It tumbles off into space, unable to regain its balance. With a quick spin, Naim redirects Anhur's trajectory to the right, again creating distance between the Centeotls and himself. From the wobbly, uncertain movements, it seems that he's not used to the speed that the high mobility prototype is capable of. Still, he's performing admirably and dragging out our time with his hit and runs. At the same time, Jean fires yet another shot at the distracted Centeotls. It misses, and he curses. It seems that he expected to hit that one. Four Centeotls left, including the leader. The leader of their squad makes a quick gesture, and the three white Centeotls begin heading towards us.
“Master, they'll be here in six seconds!” shouts Yua. She has been guiding my shots to make it easier, but the sluggish movements of the G-81 means that even aiming is a chore.
Damn. I raise my rifle again and fire. Even with Yua aiding my aim, the Centeotls evade it easily, splitting up their formation and reforming, closing in on me all the while. These are no normal pilots. I can see Naim rushing back to intercept the enemy CFs headed for us, but the lead Centeotl suddenly stands in his way, pulling out a mono-molecular sword from its back.
For now we're on our own. This doesn't look good. The Centeotls have a massive mobility advantage over us, and now that they are on guard I can tell that they also have the skill advantage. Two of them split off and approach us from the sides at high speed, making intricate maneuvers as they do so. Jean wastes the last of his shots attempting to hit them in futility. The remaining one fires its machine-gun at us. In these damned construction mechs we cannot dodge very well; though I try, the hail of bullets blow away my mech's right leg, sending its fragments spinning into space. These mechs are nowhere nearly as well-armored as Anhur was. I don't have the luxury of taking any more hits.
Before I can react, I hear Jean scream over the intercom. I turn the mech around, but a massive impact throws me backwards. I can see a thick, gigantic blade passing right by my side; it barely missed me by centimetres. I ensure my pilot suit and helmet is secured tightly, and kick the mech's legs outwards, pulling it away from the Centeotl that had just tried to stab me with its sword.
Jean's mech has been torn apart by the other Centeotl, its parts scattering in the void. I'm not sure whether he's still alive. Naim is probably still busy with the leader.
I should have done this earlier.
My mind freezes over as I focus.
Things are... different.
Out here in deep space, separated from the cold void by only the mech I am in, my senses seem to be far more expansive than they were before. I do not know how, but I sense more clearly and acutely than before the flames of life; three around me, two far ahead, and many more clustered together behind me.
“Yua. Enslave the actuator arms in simultaneous control!” I shout. She responds without complaint. The actuator limbs whir to life, their manipulator claws opening and closing wickedly. They grab the surprised Centeotl that had almost run me through with a sword. I concentrate on the delicate balance of controlling four arms at the same time. I'm about to be fired upon – I whirl my mech around, placing the Centeotl in my grasp between me and the line of fire. The bullets smash into my hostage's body, but I remain unharmed. With a violent throw, I toss the Centeotl at its comrade. Three beams burst forth from the barrel of my rifle, one after another. They rip through the armor of the Centeotls, but none of them manage to land a killing blow, as the Centeotls recover unnaturally quickly and dash apart. They immediately retreat to a distance, suddenly wary of me.
At the same time, Naim finally returns to my side... but the Anhur is in terrible condition. It is missing both its head and arms. Its armor is cracked and dented at multiple places. He appears to be blindly attempting to retreat, trying to salvage whatever is left of the prototype CF. The lead Centeotl dashes past me at high speed, intent on striking the killing blow on the Anhur. My actuator arms lash out and grip its legs as it does so. The surprised leader turns around and swings its sword at me, cleaving one of the arms into two. I draw my dagger and attack it while it is distracted; that does not work. The Centeotl moves faster than I can predict and cuts off the hand holding the dagger with one clean, beautiful stroke.
Something strikes me as familiar about that sword move...
On a hunch, I immediately begin hailing the enemy, shouting just one word: “Dunamis!”
I can just about sense them freezing up. Perfect. That delay is all I needed. I couldn't care less about why the Dunamis are here for now. The mission is already a success; we have held them off long enough for the Kaguya-hime to reach its destination. The construction mech might not be fast, but if I engage all of its thrusters at once it moves at a reasonable speed, and its acceleration is not too shabby.
My G-81 rams into the leader's Centeotl, carrying it towards the fleeing Anhur. Sure, Naim would be able to escape while the Dunamis pile on me as they are wont to do – those pricks – but I think I can get out of this with both of us alive. As expected, the Centeotl tries to push my mech off. I open the cockpit hatch and jump just as it does so. I float out into space. The added inertia sends me sailing towards Naim's CF – it's hardly traveling at top speed. I manage to grab hold of one of the ruined limbs and begin banging on the mech. After what seems like forever, the cockpit opens with a hiss and I climb in.
Inside, Naim stares at me dumbfoundedly as the cockpit closes. He looks almost as bad as the frame he's in; there's blood everywhere. I'm sorry to do this to an injured man, but I unstrap him and push him out of his seat. He floats around, groaning. It looks like he's still dazed. I'm lucky that he had enough presence of mind to let me in.
“The Centeotls are catching up, Master, and the Ghostlot is not too far behind. What should we do?” says Yua worriedly. I check what's left of the monitors; Yua is right. I slam on the Anhur's throttle. Nothing happens. The battle had damaged most of its thrusters. The Kaguya-hime is just ahead, but I won't be able to reach it before the asteroid passes. My mind works furiously, considering all the possibilities; with the wrecked mech that I'm in, my abilities are still useless. Ignoring the robot, I can't exactly fight off four CFs by myself with nothing but my tendrils and powers – there wouldn't be enough time to take them all out and escape.
I hate to admit it, but I'm stuck.
It's too late. I can't reach the Kaguya-hime. I bring Anhur to a gentle stop and turn around. Behind me I feel the asteroid tumbling past, on its way to gods know where. Ahead of me, the Centeotls approach slowly and warily at my sudden pause, the Ghostlot following close behind.
The intercom flickers to life.
“Drop down!” shouts Captain Grimrock.
I immediately angle my combat frame and rocket downwards.
As the asteroid passes, it reveals the Kaguya-hime waiting, having done an about-turn right after the asteroid arrived. Its weapons were all pointing towards the enemy, and not a second passes by before they fire their salvo. Beams and torpedoes rain on the Ghostlot and its CFs. Though the Centeotl's manage to evade the salvo, the Ghostlot is not so lucky. I can barely see through the bright explosions that flare up in front of me. When the glare fades, the Ghostlot has turned tail. Taken by surprise, the enemy begins to retreat, fleeing the counterattack of the Kaguya-hime.
The operation is over, and not in a way I had expected...
***
In the aftermath of the battle, we found out that despite the Ghostlot's retreat to lick its wounds, reinforcements from the Indus Confederation would be arriving at Neo Heliopolis within three days to support the Ghostlot. Staying here was now a futile endeavour; the Indus warship would carry a squad of ten CFs, which would likely be their new Vizala IIs – a machine that far outperformed the Centeotls even though they both belonged to the 2nd generation. Even the Empress acknowledged, unwillingly, that they had to leave.
But where to?
We had two choices; the Apophis asteroid at Sun L5, run by the Atman Foundation which has remained neutral thus far, or attempt to rendezvous with an ISC patrol of three warships on the way to Sun L4. The former is a longer trip of about one week, but the latter would run a high risk of encountering the enemy. If it were left up to me, I would probably prefer to...
***
A. Head to the Atman Foundation's asteroid, where we can rest and resupply. We will leak notice of our supposed attempt to meet with the ISC patrol in order to distract the UNS and Indus warships hunting for us.
B. Attempt the rendezvous with the ISC patrol. It will take only two days to find and reach them. If we succeed, we should be able to gain a proper escort, which would be sufficient to break through towards Earth.
She can paint whatever she likes, an untrained civilian personally killed an experienced CF pilot and then held his own against five famous mercenaries saving the experimental CF not once, but twice. And if we succeed in this plan of ours, we will also be the guy who saved the Imperial family's hide through a ballsy plan of our own making.
