109: Bombing: Er woman

In the Decoy Fleet, aboard the Imperial Navy flagship Immortal, Kelaifu and Gould, who was peeking from behind a screen, both felt a sense of unreality as they watched the Node Space Station drawing closer—

They were already this close, yet no enemy Warship had appeared to intercept them, and even the defensive firepower was deathly silent.

Could it be that those who occupied Ursa Major V12.22 had just given up on such a large space station, such an important strategic pivot?

Impossible, right?

Wouldn't that make them look like clowns?

But just as Gould, behind the screen, was about to change the third contingency plan to the second, the situation suddenly changed—

The radar officer of the Immortal suddenly reported loudly:

"Report! A large number of light frigates and Boarding Craft class units have suddenly emerged from within the Node Space Station!"

"It is estimated that the enemy is preparing to launch Boarding Actions against us!"

"The space station's defensive guns are firing upon us!"

Upon hearing this report, Kelaifu immediately ordered loudly:

"Shield ships, push forward! Anti-Boarding Actions formation! Deploy anti-air blockade!"

"All Marine Corps units, stand by!"

At the same time, however, his internal assessment of the opposing organization's score dropped significantly—

In most cases, Boarding Actions were a last-ditch effort when there was a huge disparity in strength between the two sides.

Were these guys really planning to attempt Boarding Actions just because they saw the Decoy Fleet?

As expected, they were just a bunch of lucky people with no real power.

Besides, the Empire possessed some of the genetic modification technology left over from the fourth era!

Although this technology was unstable and had a lot of side effects, it could still raise human reaction speed and muscle strength to a terrifying level—

Boarding Actions by ordinary people, in front of those "steady and solid" guys, were like a bunch of lolis jumping into a nest of tentacle monsters.

He felt bored. Since there was no value here, they might as well finish the fight early and pack up.

"Captain! The targets have suddenly begun a high-speed penetration! Our interception fire net has been breached!"

Suddenly, the radar officer's report brought him a little confusion—and a little bit of interest.

What kind of Boarding Craft would dare to go that fast before contact?

Could it be that the other side had some different plans?

He sat up, leaned toward the screen, and watched carefully.

No. 24 was a Pilot.

His name was inherited from his great-great-great... great-grandfather. Because he was the 24th person on the unloading boat at the time, he received this glorious designation and has used it ever since.

Just a moment ago, he received the order to take off from the Boss, so he slammed the throttle all the way to the floor.

The flat fuselage of the mistral trembled slightly, and a strong sense of acceleration pressed against his back. He instantly shot straight out of the space station's launch track and flew into the starry sky.

Soon, the graviton regulation in the cockpit was completed, and the pressure caused by the rapid forward movement disappeared. No. 24 made a turn and joined the massive flight formation.

There was no resistance or air in space, so with the combination of strong materials and an invincible flight control system, the seemingly clumsy fighter under his feet could perform countless high-difficulty maneuvers at will.

The enemy Warship's position had already been marked on the radar, and just as planned, he flew behind those unmanned fighters, constantly accelerating forward.

"Enemy anti-air fire!"

"Watch out for the shells!"

Suddenly, the fighter's warning system automatically issued various alarms. It was the enemy's anti-air fire net!

The interception system, built to defend against Boarding Craft and missiles, was very easy to use to intercept a bunch of small planes—especially small planes without Pilots.

Those railguns, pulse waves, cannons... the further he rushed forward, the more No. 24 felt that all of the enemy's firepower was firing at him.

The hail of bullets was overwhelming, tracers wove into chains, and missiles blossomed like bouquets. The massive anti-air net was as dense as a spider web, and those unmanned fighters without any evasive maneuvers were like moths flying into the web—

Knowing they would die, they still made a resolute charge toward the flames behind the web, which seemed like hope.

At every moment, fighters were disintegrating in mid-air, bringing fleeting sparks of fire, turning into a pile of garbage and debris floating on the battlefield.

The soldiers on the Imperial flagship Immortal watched the total number of downed craft first break one hundred, then rapidly climb toward two hundred. The Bridge was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

The barrage composed of steel and lasers formed an efficient and solid Shield. Even if something slipped through, the missiles would settle everything—nothing could pass through that net.

Watching a friendly fighter disintegrate in front of him, No. 24 performed a Z-shaped roll, dodging another missile flying toward him. He felt it was almost time.

The afterburner valve had been pushed to the maximum, and the entire plane seemed to tense up, trembling slightly.

No. 24 felt his hand gripping the joystick begin to tremble slightly—even as a clone body, when facing such a desperate life-and-death moment, he would experience the tense and stimulating surge of adrenaline.

But once the charge began, there was no retreat. They only had two choices: either charge into the enemy fleet or disintegrate in mid-air.

[ "Whoosh——!!!" ]

Finally, after avoiding the last missile coming at him, the mistral piloted by No. 24, like a flying fish leaping out of the sea, made a flexible and light flip and broke through that dense and thick sea of interception. A huge Warship appeared before his eyes.

"Target detected, recommending strike systems for you."

"According to your current needs, I will guide you to strike the enemy Warship's anti-air system."

Instantly, dozens of red markers appeared on the screen, four of which had double marks—they were missile nests!

He made his choice without the slightest hesitation. The black shadow, like a peregrine falcon spotting its prey, quickly lowered its altitude. Soon, when the belly of the plane was almost about to scrape against the outer armor of the Warship, the aiming mark in front of him coincided with the red dot representing the missile nest!

"WAAAAAGH!!!"

No. 24's chest heaved violently. He roared, using all his might, and pulled the trigger hard. A series of Autocannon shells gushed out, first tearing through the weak outer armor of the missile nest, then releasing the plasma compressed within the warheads. In an instant, fire, black smoke, and debris erupted from the original position of the missile nest like a gusher of oil.

No. 24 quickly turned his sights and continued to fire at other red dots, not caring at all that he was about to crash headlong into the gap that was still erupting with thick smoke and raging fire—

Every fighter around was like this, whether manned or unmanned. They were all using the fastest way to open a path of life for the comrades charging behind them.

Soon, large swaths of the interception system went silent, and the remaining interception fire net became weak and powerless—at this moment, the slightly slower vesta a021 began to enter the field.

"Anti-air system paralyzed!"

"Anti-ship weapon system paralyzed?"

"What's going on? Why have all the weapons on the ship been paralyzed in an instant?"

"What are those things!"

First, the anti-air efficiency plummeted, followed by the Warship issuing an alarm that it was under attack. The relaxed atmosphere that existed just a second ago in the Decoy Fleet was instantly shattered by the alarms of one weapon system after another being paralyzed.

More and more black small planes were swarming in from all directions—above, below, in front, behind. A fighter could emerge from any unexpected place, accelerate away after casually firing a shell or missile, followed immediately by the alarm of some system failure.

Kelaifu's previous contempt and prejudice toward these guys had just been thrown away—these things attacking them were not Boarding Craft or frigates at all!

These were fighters!

Although the Imperial Navy also retained the ancient organization of naval aviation, in his impression, fighters shouldn't be able to achieve such results, right?

He thought of the Imperial Naval Aviation. Those small planes could make logistics desperate, could make engineers desperate, and could even make Pilots desperate, but they just couldn't make the enemy desperate.

Standing on the Bridge, Kelaifu's ears were constantly ringing with the alarm that "* * * * system destroyed." But his eyes were becoming brighter and brighter—relying on this batch of fighter strikes, the people occupying Ursa Major V12.22, in his eyes, truly had the value of contact.

(I'm back)

(Will continue to update starting tomorrow)