Chapter 9 – September 2047 – Agartha

Attack data was flooding the screen one after another.

On the spherical map, the current locations of the 500 Tracers and their pilots deployed across Agartha were displayed as green dots. A nearly equal number of red dots were now being stamped over them, overlapping the green ones.

Each area where fighting broke out was boxed in and numbered. The numbers rapidly jumped into the double digits and, in no time, hit triple digits.

The alarm blared.

Seconds after the strike from the sky, a single Tarsian came straight for Mikako.

“Where?”

She looked up at the sky.

The silver Tarsian pierced through the clouds and came diving down.

“Why? I don’t get it. I don’t understand!”

Mikako clenched her molars and initiated combat.

She blasted the boosters at full power. The Tracer shot vertically up from the grasslands.

At the same time, Mikako fired eight missiles upward.

The Tarsian responded by sweeping forward with a red beam.

Zuuuunn! The red beam tore through the air, and four of the missiles disintegrated in midair without resistance.

The remaining four scattered immediately to evade the beam.

“Hit it!”

Meanwhile, Mikako slid the trajectory of the ascending Tracer sideways and pounded Vulcan cannon fire into the predicted path of the Tarsian.

But the Tarsian wasn’t standing still. After swatting down the missiles, it now turned the tip of its beam toward the Tracer.

The Tracer’s sensors responded instantly, deploying an electromagnetic barrier.

BZZZZZT! As the beam hit, blinding light exploded across the barrier’s surface, lightning crawling all over it.

The screen distorted violently for a moment.

“It’s okay—this is working!”

She had survived the initial attack.

The Tarsian had now descended to nearly the same altitude. Mikako looked back at it.

It had dodged all four remaining missiles and evaded countless rounds of cannon fire.

“This time… please hit!”

She cut off her upward acceleration and launched a second strike downward.

The Tarsian shifted into an ascent, firing another beam.

It slipped through the mesh of cannon fire, continuing to climb higher.

“Did I get it?”

The barrier flared again, blinding lightning erupting in front of her.

By the time her vision cleared, the Tarsian had completed its climb, rising far above.

The alarm rang out again.

『Tarsian swarm detected in orbit! Tracer units, after completing ground engagements, immediately provide support to your respective mother ships!』

Mikako looked at the screen.

A vast swarm now appeared on the map as a massive red cluster.

The mother ships that had been scattered throughout Agartha’s orbit were beginning to regroup near the Lysithea in preparation for a fleet battle.

“I have to hurry!”

She glanced back at the ground combat map.

Areas where combat had ended were marked with Xs. Casualty data for both sides was now listed as cold, emotionless numbers. The line marked『Tracer Units──23』changed before her eyes to 24.

—That means… they were all taken down?

The Tarsian side read 19. And the total number of enemy units was still unknown.

On the ground combat map, the red dots weren’t decreasing—in fact, they looked like they were increasing.

Were reinforcements being sent in from some base hidden somewhere on the surface?

“I can’t just sit here!”

Mikako accelerated upward, chasing the Tarsian.

Bursting through the lower cumulus clouds, she now had a full view of the terrain below.

Grasslands, forests, open sky.

Plumes of smoke from cannon fire were rising from over a dozen locations within her line of sight.

—This is… horrible!

An indescribable fury welled up inside her.

—How is this a survey mission? It’s like we came here to start a war!

Mikako pursued the Tarsian at full throttle.

—Something’s off.

The Tarsian was slowing down.

She rapidly closed the gap and locked into position right behind it.

A red-black scorch mark was visible on part of the silver carapace.

—That hit landed.

Trying to shake her, the Tarsian suddenly dove downward.

Mikako immediately spiraled into a dive after it.

She fired the Vulcan cannon from behind.

The bullets struck one of the protrusions jutting from the silver carapace, snapping and sparking with paki paki! bursts.

The Tarsian lost its balance and began spiraling down in a corkscrew.

—Not yet. I won’t let you escape!

Mikako chased it.

Below, a wide lake came into view.

Just before crashing, the Tarsian managed to regain its balance, skimming the lake’s surface in level flight. It tried to climb, but the nose wouldn’t lift.

It plunged into the forest lining the lake.

Taka taka taka!—trees were smashed aside as it barreled through, until it finally collapsed and came to a stop.

Mikako came down right on top of it, pinning the Tarsian under her Tracer’s feet.

“I’m sorry—this is the end!”

She plunged her raised beam blade deep into the silver carapace.

Shunk! She yanked it out, and crimson blood sprayed high into the air.

“I have to hurry!”

Without even catching her breath, Mikako launched into the sky.

She confirmed the current location of the mother ship Lysithea on the map and ascended at top speed.

The fleet had finished regrouping, forming a fan-shaped formation with the flagship Lysithea at its center.

As she broke through the stratosphere, she could now see the fleet not just on the map, but through her onboard camera.

All around her, allied Tracers were regrouping—returning from ground operations to protect the mother ship.

“Mikako, you’re okay!”

Satomi’s voice broke into the screen.

“Ah, Satomi-san! Where are you…?”

She scanned the map, now pushed to a corner of the display.

“I’ve already joined Lysithea’s escort. I guess I got lucky—my assigned grid didn’t get attacked.”

One of the green dots surrounding the flagship Lysithea blinked, showing Satomi’s location.

“What about everyone else?”

“I’m not telling you right now. Some of the casualties… are people we know. But don’t ask who—not yet. If I told you, I might be counted among them myself in the next moment. Got it? Right now, don’t think about anything unnecessary. Just focus on fighting. Focus on surviving. And if—if—you make it through this… call me first thing, okay?”

“Satomi-san…”

Satomi tried to smile—but her eyes weren’t smiling at all.

“They’re coming. More of them—from below this time. It’s about to get busy.”

Just as Satomi said, several red dots began rising from the surface on the map.

“We have to protect the Lysithea.”

“Yeah.”

“Then… good luck!”

She gave a stiff wink and disappeared from the screen.

Mikako didn’t want to be in this place.

She wanted to escape from it—right now.

She wanted to fly straight back to Earth and see Noboru-kun.

To see him and tell him,《I love you》.

—Why didn’t I say it?

—When we were still in middle school, there were so many chances…

—Why did it turn out like this?

I want to say it now.

I want to tell him I love him—

While I’m still alive.

—I have to survive.

—Until my feelings reach Noboru-kun, across time and space.

—Until the thoughts of fifteen-year-old Mikako reach twenty-four-year-old Noboru-kun.

『Warning!』

The onboard computer issued an alarm, and Mikako was yanked back into the cold, brutal reality.

『Tarsians approaching from below. Three-unit formation. Distance: 800.』

She checked the remaining rounds for the Vulcan cannon.

Checked her remaining missiles, too.

“I just have to do everything I can.”

Mikako reversed the Tracer.

***

The fleet battle began—quietly.

The Tarsian swarm approached the fleet formation with a steady, unhurried pace.

The large Tarsians were each about one size smaller than a Cosmonaut. Their flattened, spindle-shaped forms closely resembled the Cosmonauts. Their surfaces gleamed with the same silvery shine as the Tarsians’ shells, irregularly covered in spiked protrusions.

There were nearly fifty of the large Tarsians.

Each one pointed its nose toward the fleet and slowly closed the distance—deliberately, as if trying to lure the fleet into effective range.

Once they had closed in, the smaller individual Tarsians attached to the large ones separated all at once and scattered across the area.

In response, the fleet launched all Tracer units that had been kept on standby aboard the ships into battle.

A ferocious aerial battle erupted around both forces.

The numerical advantage of the Tarsians quickly tilted the battle in their favor.

The Tracer units were forced into a defensive battle, fighting with the mother ships at their backs.

The individual Tarsians didn’t possess particularly superior weaponry—they fought using only red energy beams. The Tracers’ electromagnetic barriers worked well as shields, but once subjected to repeated attacks, the barriers would eventually fail.

Surrounded by multiple Tarsians and barraged by concentrated beam fire, the Tracers were shot down one after another, vanishing into the dark void of space.

The Tarsians maintained the upper hand, while both sides continued to wear each other down.

Tracers that ran out of ammunition withdrew to the retrieval gates for resupply. But even that resupply rotation began to collapse. There weren’t enough Tracers left to protect the gates.

An hour into the full-scale battle, there was no longer any margin for rotation. The final resupply round was completed, and after that, the retrieval gates were only used to recover downed Tracers.

***

Mikako completed her final resupply.

Attitude-control gas cartridges, shells, missiles, rapid battery charge—she went through the entire replacement process with practiced speed and, without even pausing to rest, launched from the catapult into space.

The moment of launch made her feel nauseous. Her face twisted reflexively.

She reached to her collar and loosened her uniform’s necktie. She couldn’t breathe. The ongoing extreme tension had disrupted her breathing. No matter how deeply she inhaled, the oxygen wouldn’t reach her lungs.

“How many more…?”

She looked around.

Silver carapaces swarmed everywhere.

She had counted her kills up to ten. Beyond that, she’d lost track. She was fairly certain she hadn’t reached twenty yet.

She had already done enough to qualify as an ace.

But no matter how hard Mikako fought, it wasn’t going to change anything alone.

Looking at the Tarsians, whose numbers didn’t seem to have diminished at all, Mikako felt a wave of helplessness.

An unending battle. No—an end was definitely coming.

When she used up the last of the ammo from her final resupply, that would be the end of her fight.

—Supreme Commander… are you not going to run this time?

Mikako knew full well by now: they couldn’t use the shortcut anchor anymore. Hyperdrive under their own power was no longer an option either.

There was nowhere left to escape to. And no one was coming to save them.

—Are we going to fight to the very end? To show the Tarsians what human pride really means?

She didn’t know. What was the commander thinking?

She didn’t know. What meaning could this battle possibly have?

Mikako launched into the void.

The number of Tracers defending the Lysithea had dropped below fifty. Most likely, the other ships were in a similar state.

Mikako left the Lysithea behind and surged into the front line of the battle.

A cluster of Tarsians swarmed in to attack.

She fired missiles, unleashed Vulcan rounds, and immediately broke away.

Just as she turned back toward the Lysithea, the starry sky erupted in a blinding light.

The opposing mothership and a large Tarsian had exchanged main cannon fire.

Mikako forgot about the battle for a moment, entranced by the overwhelming sight.

The vanguard of the Tarsians and nine of the fleet’s mother ships faced off nearly one-to-one, exchanging high-powered beams. Red beams fired by the Tarsians and blue beams from the fleet clashed midway in bursts of sparks. It looked like a contest of strength—neither side allowing the other even an inch.

Firing continuously, the large Tarsian ships closed in on the fleet, forming a tight scrum. The distance between the forces shrank rapidly.

—What’s going to happen?

What was the Tarsian side trying to do?

Were they trying to minimize energy loss by reducing beam distance?

A stunning, unbelievable sight unfolded before her eyes. The Tarsians kept approaching, closing the gap to nearly zero. From afar, it looked as though enemy and ally ships were butting noses—fused together.

Beams wrapped around the surfaces of each vessel, crawling like lightning.

It was terrifying.

At that range, neither side could move. No other ships could approach from the flanks. The side that exhausted its power first would suffer catastrophic damage.

The first to break was one of the Tarsians.

Its massive body glowed intensely, shining with a blinding flash. Then, like an overinflated balloon, it expanded and burst—shattering into countless fragments of light that scattered into the darkness.

Another large Tarsian exploded soon after in a separate clash.

—Incredible. The fleet’s winning!

But as if filling empty bus seats, the Tarsians immediately brought in backup from behind. They still had plenty of replacements. It was a horrifying war of attrition. If the fleet faltered even slightly, they would lose an entire ship.

This was a suicide attack.

But—what could compel the Tarsians to go this far?

More large Tarsians began to vanish in succession. If things continued this way, there was a real chance the fleet could turn the tide and win.

—We might win!

A faint possibility of victory glimmered in this battle, once thought hopeless.

—Good. All we have to do now is protect the Lysithea.

Mikako once again threw herself into the front line.

After taking down two more Tarsians with great effort and returning, the situation had changed drastically.

The Tarsian reserves were down to just a few remaining ships. That was good. But something was wrong with the fleet.

The normally white surfaces of the Cosmonaut ships were now glowing red-hot across the board. Their heat-resistant armor was reaching its limit.

—Please… hold on!

Mikako’s prayer went unanswered.

One Cosmonaut began to melt.

Its heat-resistant shell started to liquefy and peel off. In the next instant, it erupted into a fireball and exploded in a violent burst of light.

“Ah… it’s going down…!”

A chain nightmare unfolded.

The neighboring ship, already pushed to its limits, was hit by the flying debris and exploded in turn.

“Ah… the fleet… it’s all going down…!”

The fleet, lined up in formation, burst apart one by one like dominoes. In less than a minute, everything collapsed and vanished.

When the flood of light ceased, only two ships remained in the silent void: a single large Tarsian, and the untouched flagship, the Lysithea, which had stayed in the rear.

The flagship Lysithea now stood alone—naked before the enemy, its vanguard annihilated.

The last large Tarsian stepped forward without hesitation.

It was sure to launch the same brutal attack.

—The Lysithea… is going to be destroyed.

—No more. Enough. Everyone’s going to die!

Mikako was crying.

She cried as she flew toward the Lysithea.

—I’ll protect the Lysithea!

Mikako leapt onto the upper deck of the Lysithea, standing face-to-face with the final large Tarsian approaching head-on.

She wiped her tears, steadied her breathing, and waited.

The Lysithea extended its beam cannon turrets on both port and starboard sides.

It happened almost simultaneously. The Lysithea unleashed a full barrage, and the large Tarsian fired its beam as well.

Mikako ignited her boosters.

She charged straight at the final Tarsian at top speed.

Sensing her assault, individual Tarsians began throwing themselves in her path one after another.

Mikako fired off all remaining missiles and shells, sweeping aside the enemies in front of her.

She dodged through the Tarsian’s beam waves, and any Tarsians she failed to hit with missiles or shells, she cut down with her blade. With astonishing agility and reflexes, Mikako pushed closer to the large Tarsian.

But she wasn’t unscathed.

The enemy’s counterattack was fierce. She was hit multiple times by beam fire from blocking Tarsians. Finally, her barrier was breached. In the next instant, one of her arms was torn off.

Losing balance, she almost spun out—but she jettisoned the empty missile launcher on one side to stabilize. Her gas cartridge for attitude control was nearly depleted.

—I don’t need it anymore.

She discarded the depleted battery pack used for the electromagnetic barrier.

One by one, she threw away everything unnecessary, lightening the load and reducing control strain.

The nose of the large Tarsian was now right before her.

There was no one left to block her path.

Leaving only the main screen and the onboard computer powered, Mikako switched off every other system inside the Tracer.

A moment of silence.

The cockpit was enveloped in darkness.

—Now!

She surged her output to maximum, extended the beam blade to its full length.

She pressed the blade against the Tarsian’s nose, fired the booster at max thrust, and sliced through the silver back of the Tarsian.

All the way down to its rear thrusters, she cleaved its massive body in a single vertical stroke. As she finished the cut, her booster fuel ran out. The blade’s power supply was also spent.

The Tracer, now inert, drifted away from the Tarsian on momentum alone.

An explosion erupted behind her. The final large Tarsian vanished.

The Tracer, with no ability to attack, defend, or even maneuver—missing one arm and battered—floated alone in the void of space.

Mikako slumped back into her seat, utterly spent, and closed her eyes.

—Noboru-kun… Mikako survived.

From behind her closed eyelids, tears spilled forth.