[Intruder on board. Intruder on board. All non-combat crew mbers, please proceed to the designated shelters.]
[Sector D-7 sealed. I repeat, Sector D-7 sealed...!]
“D-damn it! What the hell is...!”
A total of ten unidentified red assault ships had charged the rear hangar.
Three of them were shot down by the ship's partially functioning anti-air system, but the rest made it through.
As a result, the marines, after evacuating so of the non-combat crew, headed for the corridor leading to the rear hangar.
Soon, what they faced were unidentified soldiers wearing red uniforms and black gas masks.
“Take cover!”
“Aaargh!”
“H-help —. Keuk!”
In terms of overall equipnt, the Synthetic Nation's marines had the upper hand, but when the Superhumans in red uniforms stepped forward, they were instantly pushed back to the corridor beyond the hangar.
Of course, it wasn't long before the captain commanding the scene could breathe a sigh of relief.
This was partly because the marines who had arrived late as support were all wearing Powered Exoskeletons, but mainly because of the equipnt at the forefront.
[Everyone, move!]
With a ‘creak, thud!’, a hulking figure, easily three ters tall, pushed its way through the marines and stood tall in the center of the corridor.
[I'll wipe you all out!]
Then, before the ones in red uniforms could even react, it aid the large-caliber machine gun mounted on its left arm forward.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Tactical Powered Armor—Titan.
An upgraded version of the Powered Exoskeleton created during the Second Galactic War to supplent insufficient squad firepower, its instantaneous firepower overwhelms even a Dual Gear.
Fortunately, the Superhumans in red uniforms in the corridor didn't seem to be of a very high rank, as they couldn't readily throw themselves in front of the muzzle.
[Uwaaaaaah!]
It was a marvelous display of firepower, seeing it almost single-handedly cover the corridor that dozens of marines had been defending until now.
Perhaps because they had a mont to breathe, the captain commanding the scene, Schitze, asked the sergeant who had co as support.
“What's the situation?”
“I'm not sure of the details; I ca in a hurry while on duty. But I heard Captain Hessen and Captain Arinne have headed for the bridge.”
“...Damn it. Support will be difficult.”
Captain Hessen and Captain Arinne.
Even if they held the sa rank, the weight of their titles was different because they were both Special Mission Officers who had graduated from the Northern Special Mission Military Academy.
‘The bridge is under attack, too? But why in Hyperspace of all places...’
Of course, it wasn't that combat was impossible in Hyperspace, nor was it unprecedented.
Rather, it was no exaggeration to say it was tactically perfect for guerrilla warfare.
The mont a ship enters Hyperspace, its Mother AI shuts down all external anti-air systems to a minimum for safe navigation.
However, for that very reason, military Hyperspace routes are managed with strict security classifications, and since even retreating is difficult in Hyperspace, it could easily beco no different from a suicide mission.
“Captain?”
But his thoughts were cut short.
Schitze also knew very well that this was not the ti for such worries, so he quickly assessed the situation and gave an order.
“For now, hold this position.”
If the Special Mission Officers had headed for the bridge, it ant the main attack was there. In that case, there was nothing more they could do but hold their ground.
[Hahahaha! Co and get so, you morons!]
And with the Titan's appearance, that seed quite manageable.
But just then.
Step, step…
Under the flickering lights, perhaps damaged by gunfire, a man slowly walked forward, sothing long dangling from his hands.
He wore a black gas mask, so his face was unknown, but the fact that he wore a red uniform ant he was an enemy.
Because of that, the Sergeant piloting the Titan aid the muzzle without a hint of hesitation and pulled the trigger.
Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!
Bullets fired from the red-hot muzzle filled the corridor.
‘Fool.’
Now that he was within range, there was no escape.
As a Superhuman, he wouldn't die instantly from the bullets, but it should at least inflict considerable damage.
But at that very mont.
“I'll clean this up quickly.”
Ssshhk.
A voice, uttered with a short breath from under the gas mask, echoed through the noise of the machine gun.
KWAAAAANG!
With the sound of an explosion, the Titan's right leg was torn off completely.
“W-what...?”
Not just Captain Schitze, but all the marines defending the corridor couldn't believe their eyes.
He had clearly been at the end of the corridor. And yet, in the blink of an eye, he was overwhelming the Titan.
[K-kuaaaaaargh!]
The mont the desperate scream of the Sergeant piloting the Titan grazed his ears and only a faint afterimage remained, Captain Schitze saw the weapon the red soldier held and muttered under his breath.
“Tonfa?”
The red uniform, the blonde hair, and decisively, the overwhelming martial prowess to play with the Titan like a toy while wielding tonfas.
“...Grade 2 wanted criminal. Liberto.”
The most infamous criminal from the separatist, anti-governnt terrorist group 'Red Hand', and a Superhuman of estimated Quad Gear-class.
“C-Captain. W-what should we do?”
“……”
After finishing off the already-dead Titan for good, he stood there and stared at the Synthetic Nation's soldiers.
The fact that he was waiting, despite being able to kill them all instantly if he chose to, was likely a form of silent pressure.
Surrender. Or die.
It might be different for other terrorist groups, but the Red Hand was known for barking about fighting for a greater cause.
“...Hoo.”
The deliberation was short.
If he surrendered, he could save his own life for now.
But he would be branded a traitor to the Synthetic Nation, and his family would surely face scorn for the rest of their lives.
An honorable death?
Or a cowardly survival?
The answer was already decided.
Schitze gave a bitter smile and commanded.
“Ready to fire.”
“...Ready to fire!”
At his command, the remaining marines also raised their muzzles in unison. Seeing this, Liberto let out a short sigh under his gas mask and spoke.
“If you insist on drinking the poisoned chalice. I won't drag this out.”
And imdiately after, the only thing heard from the corridor was the desperate death screams of the marines.
***
“Are you alright?”
“Th-thank you, Major.”
Obia Timist casually accepted the injured marine's thanks and then walked over to a soldier in a red uniform who was lying on the ground with a fatal wound to his abdon.
Shhh, gasp-.
He was clearly panting for breath, as if the gas mask made it difficult to breathe.
And yet, his eyes, looking at her, were filled with killing intent and hostility.
Of course, she paid it no mind and reached out, tearing off his gas mask.
“Cough! Keuk...”
Was it painful because she had forcibly torn the strap?
Or was it because his organs were lting from the flas that had pierced his abdon just monts before?
Thinking it was probably both, she asked the man who was glaring at her as if he wanted to kill her.
“It's our first ti eting, so I'll only ask once. What is your objective?”
“...Kill .”
“Hmm. Yes, if that's your wish!”
“...What?”
Did he not expect her to agree so readily?
The fallen man's eyes widened as he questioned her, but he lted away without even letting out a death scream as flas filled his vision.
At that, the adjutant standing behind her spoke, his face pale.
“M-Major, even so...”
“Hm?”
“N-nothing, ma'am.”
But at Obia's innocent-sounding question, he too had to shut his mouth.
While the principle when encountering Red Hand terrorists was to arrest them, in urgent situations like this, summary execution was also possible.
...Excluding any humanitarian issues, that is.
Obia, on the other hand, paid no mind to how others saw her and simply continued her thoughts.
‘An attack in Hyperspace. How interesting.’
As expected, it was a good idea to follow Jin Crow.
Aren't I experiencing sothing I might never have encountered in my entire life?
However, she couldn't help but find her adjutant, who kept turning pale over trivial matters, to be a nuisance.
“Hey, could you move the injured soldiers to a safe place?”
“Yes, I understand, Major.”
The adjutant nodded at her command.
Escorting them to the rear was a necessary task, and her order was justified both in na and in practice.
Of course, the reality was more along the lines of 'please get this unnecessary obstacle out of my way'.
Just after the adjutant disappeared to take care of the wounded, Obia licked her lips, contemplating where to go first.
“Hmmm.”
She was currently standing in the central part of the ship, where there was a staircase leading to the rear hangar and a corridor leading to the bridge.
Which way should I go to et more enemies?
After pondering for a while, she began to walk where her feet took her.
No, she was about to.
“...Hm?”
In that instant, the sound of rushing wind from behind.
That is, if not for the heavy sensation that grazed her ear as she instinctively tilted her head.
She quickly threw herself aside to create distance.
Her white uniform was naturally stained with blood and ash, but she paid it no mind as she turned around and gave a bashful smile.
“Major Obia Timist of the Military Police. Is that correct?”
“Nope.”
“...Just as the intel said, needlessly cheerful.”
The photo he'd acquired from the darknet almost perfectly matched the face of the woman before him, and crucially, only the Military Police wore such conspicuous white uniforms.
Krrrk!
The mont he was certain the woman before him was Obia Timist, Liberto leaped off the ground as if her answer didn't matter in the slightest.
‘End this quickly.’
Dragging this on will do no good.
Especially when the opponent is a powerhouse of the sa Quad Gear-class, a montary lapse in concentration and montum would decide the victor.
KWAAAAAAAAAANG!
He swiftly spun his tonfa and struck her abdon, and with a sound like a bomb exploding, her slender body shot into the air.
But Liberto didn't stop there; he leaped and swung the handle, aiming for her chin.
‘What?’
It was a clean combo with no wasted movents, but Liberto couldn't help but feel an inexplicable sense of unease, his brow furrowing.
“You're fast.”
And soon after, a gentle yet eerie whisper grazed his ear, making Liberto instinctively twist his body.
Fwhoooosh!
A pinpoint fla shot past Liberto's cheek and struck the ground, instantly turning the corpses lying there into ash.
Was that all?
Liberto realized that his grazed cheek had been montarily exposed down to the bone, and he imdiately retreated, muttering.
“...That's so incredible firepower.”
Even if it was just for an instant, the fact that it lted flesh and bone ant her fire overwheld his regenerative abilities.
Because of that, Liberto could only send a tense gaze toward Obia, who stood nonchalantly on the ground, grinning.
‘Dragging this on will be disadvantageous.’
Of course, nothing would change.
Just as he was steeling his resolve and about to take a step forward.
“Stop.”
A voice mixed with annoyance and weariness echoed from the corridor connected to the bridge.
“Just like a terrorist. Struggling to take everyone down with you.”
In that mont, his gaze was not on Liberto, but on Obia.
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