110: Here comes the little flying stick!

(Accepting readers' suggestions, from now on, distance units for the battlefield range will be changed to gimi [GM], and Astronomical Units [AU] will only be used for large-scale distances within the galaxy.)

(1GM = 1,000,000KM; 1AU is approximately equal to 150GM)

(The distance between Earth and the Moon is approximately 0.384 GM)

"Strike results confirmed."

"Searching for the next target."

A large number of nimble fighter jets weaved through the fleet, organized into groups of a dozen or so, taking turns launching strikes against locked-on targets.

One of the greatest difficulties in carrier-based aircraft operations—finding the enemy—was perfectly solved under the invincible intelligence gathering capability of the setting.

All fighter jets continuously repeated the process of "strike—follow navigation to the next enemy Warship—continue strike," simple and efficient.

Number 24 had just finished striking a cruiser and, following the navigation guidance, locked onto a Battleship 0.2 gimi away.

Because the aircraft groups had dispersed in the combat formation, the Decoy Fleet could no longer form a strong and effective concentrated interception network.

Those wetware-guided anti-aircraft missiles couldn't even catch up to a mistral with the afterburner throttle pushed to the max.

"Nine o'clock direction, 32° bearing! Incoming missile!"

Hearing the alarm from the onboard AI, Number 24 pulled the control stick directly, the fuselage making a sharp turn upward.

The engine, pushed to the maximum setting, made it look like a piercing arrow, causing the missile to lose its target in the blink of an eye and fly past in an instant.

The organic components inside were instantly confused—hadn't he just looked at the target locked on the radar and charged over with full afterburners?

How could he dodge without opening it up?

After dodging the missile, Number 24 quickly adjusted his course, and after a brief flight, locked onto the marked Battleship.

Because of the evasive maneuver he just performed, he was briefly separated from his combat group, but this actually allowed him to reach the strike target a step earlier.

There was no time to think about whether to wait for his teammates, because the onboard AI had already sounded the alarm of being illuminated by fire-control radar—

Clearly, that Battleship had discovered him.

The entire ship's anti-aircraft fire descended upon the mistral piloted by Number 24.

In an instant, he made a decision—

After a tail-swing to dodge two missiles, he pushed the afterburner throttle to the maximum and casually disengaged the engine's safety lock.

The mistral's engine, born for war, instantly erupted with the most ferocious roar since its birth, its flat fuselage continuously breaking through the limit speed—even exceeding the limits of the onboard graviton adjustment system.

The soaring pressure instantly made Number 24 feel breathless and dizzy, black and red rapidly crawling across his field of vision.

"Clanging" sounds kept coming into his ears, and flashes of light kept streaking past outside the window; those were the sounds of close-in defense shells hitting the wings.

Relying on biological instinct, he controlled the plane to sway left and right, and that irregular maneuvering actually allowed him to avoid quite a few incoming shells and missiles.

The increasingly strong sense of oppression gradually began to seize the sanity in his brain, and in a half-dream, half-awake state, he suddenly felt a hazy voice ring in his ears—

[man——]

Man?

This word seemed to make Number 24 feel something surging in his bloodline, similar to the glory of ancestors, and also similar to the inheritance of genes.

Allowing his strong willpower to begin reclaiming his body—

He gripped the control stick tightly, slowly aligning the crosshair on the console screen with the largest red-marked point, and then shouted—

"MAN！！！！！"

And then completely lost consciousness.

The fighter jet, no longer maneuvering, was quickly shorn of its wings and exploded into a fireball.

But by this time, the mistral was already very close to the Warship; the fighter jet, still spewing fire, was already a successfully penetrating missile itself.

Under the gazes of the officers on the Battleship's Bridge, their eyes splitting with rage, it slammed fiercely into the outer armor of the bow heavy gun.

And then—

The reactor detonated, thermal radiation directly melted through the armor, causing irreversible damage to the bow gun's rail.

At this moment, Number 24's combat group arrived at the combat position and launched an attack from all directions.

Soon, this Battleship was like a beast trapped in a cage, with all its sharp teeth and fangs pulled out.

The mistral combat group immediately disengaged from the battlefield—as for the rest, the AI called "night lamp" would naturally assign the combat group composed of vesta a021 to kick its engines.

And they, in turn, had to immediately head to the next strike target without stopping.

Hundreds of such combat groups scurried through the Decoy Fleet, and one Warship after another had their weapons and engines stripped away just like that.

Of course, there were also a large number of fighter jets that turned into burning fireballs, scattered parts, or even melted liquid during their charge.

Xi Hai just watched quietly behind the screen; of the 7000 fighter jets, 5889 remained, the vast majority of the losses being the shield planes during penetration and the mistral units that struck the weapons systems.

"Report! The strikes on the various systems of the enemy's large Warships are 70% complete!"

The effectiveness of the carrier-based aircraft surprise attack had passed; most enemy ships had reacted, begun organizing effective counterattacks, and rebuilt their anti-aircraft fire nets.

Looking at the gradually gathering enemy fleet, Xi Hai knew that if they continued to fight like this, they would not be able to achieve greater results relying solely on fighter jets.

The time for the fleet to make its appearance was almost here.

"fleet prepare to depart! Target space station 2 Warp point!"

With the order given,

The silent Warships began to start up, and mechanical sounds synchronized on the AI's command console—

"Aircraft intact, depart!"

"Activating · Warp Drive Module."

A white light flashed, and after a moment of spatial distortion, the fleet disappeared from the spot.

The vanguard fleet, used as a decoy, finally found a countermeasure after enduring a large number of strikes—

They tightened their formation, with a large number of small Warships concentrating next to the large Warships, forming a dense formation that would only be arranged during a fleet review.

Some even extended mechanical arms to connect a large number of Warships together, in an attempt to form a denser anti-aircraft network.

The battlefield entered the most intense close-quarters combat; a large number of fighter jets charged crazily toward the connected Warships, and everyone used all their might.

There was never a moment without fighter jets falling, and never a moment without Warships being hit.

Some Pilots gradually "red-lined," and after emptying all their ammunition, they directly ignored the onboard AI's advice to return, shouting "WAAAAAGH" as they flew their planes into the enemy.

There were also Warships that suffered partial reactor detonations, the ejected debris directly dealing a heavy blow to nearby friendly forces.

As time went on, the fighter jets scurrying through the air obviously felt increasingly strained.

Although the strike results were still expanding, the casualty numbers were also rising rapidly—

Especially those AI-controlled fighter jets.

They just flew straight in a linear path, rigidly performing a few maneuvers that could be seen through at a glance, and then were quickly shattered.

When attacking a single Warship, they could still share the enemy's anti-aircraft fire.

But when facing the fire net spread out by enemy ships huddled together, all they could do was increase casualties in vain.

"These damn guys!"

A manned vesta a021 couldn't dodge in time and was hit in the engine by a manually guided missile; the Pilot inside watched the locust-like anti-aircraft fire flying toward his powerless fighter jet, slammed his fist hard on the console in front of him, and cursed.

—They had organized more than 90 people to charge from all directions toward a Warship group huddled together with two "Battlecruisers" and 13 small Warships.

Those AI-controlled drones refused their joint operation request on the grounds of "command conflict."

So these guys, who strictly speaking were all flying planes for the first time, just relied on instinct to twist the control stick, shouting "WAAAAAGH" while pushing through the dense anti-aircraft fire.

After losing more than half, when the mistral in front finally locked onto the target and fiercely pressed the fire button,

Missiles from the vesta a021 followed closely behind.

But these hasty attacks did not completely resolve the target system.

However, the strike group no longer had the chance to turn around and try again.

Just as those Pilots were waiting for the destructive artillery fire to smash into them,

Just when everyone had prepared for the crash,

An incomparably dazzling light suddenly appeared behind them—

A thick, long white beam of light suddenly appeared, spanning the air of the battlefield.

That was the main gun of the eternal storm!

The moment they recognized that beam of light, all the Pilots on the field felt their pressure drop instantly—there was no doubt, reinforcements had arrived!