05 Distant Starlight

Jin carries Mio, who is asleep, and says goodbye to Jake.

"Thank you for the meal. It was delicious."

"Sure thing, come back again."

After eating until full and exchanging updates, Mio fell asleep.

Given how little she had moved today, she seemed to have little strength left.

Seeing her peaceful expression, Jin feels reassured.

That is what he wants.

Jake, watching her, speaks.

"Hey, Jin."

"Yeah?"

"Man, I really think you made the right choice quitting being a pilot."

He refers to recent events, discussed just moments ago.

Among them, of course, is the fact that Jin was forced to stop being a pilot, unwillingly.

Knowing that, Jake says it.

"Back when I was around, you never looked this calm. Always arguing with the senior pilot, didn't you?"

—Yeah, maybe that’s right.

Now that he mentions it, fights with the senior pilot were routine before Jake left active duty.

When exactly had that changed?

—At least I find you easier to talk to now than back then. Feels better.

—Is that so… Thanks.

If she’s changed, it wasn’t because of Mio.

She’s certain it was Jin who made the difference.

—Anyway, what’ll you do once work starts?

—What do you mean?

—School enrollment’s still a ways off. You planning to leave me alone at home?

Jin feels a chill run down his spine.

He hadn’t thought about it at all.

The start of this life was nothing short of reckless. He can only regret it now.

It’ll probably be manageable if he relies on the home computer, but being alone—still unsettling.

Houses are more dangerous than they seem.

—…I’m planning to look for a daycare center now.

"Would you like me to watch her for a while?"

"...Really?"

"Seems quiet enough. Won't interfere with customer service."

He swallowed the thought that there weren't any customers to begin with.

And it was a welcome offer for Jin.

Jake was reliable when it came to responsibility.

"I didn't know you were the type to like kids."

"Didn't know you were either."

They exchanged light banter, then Jake's expression tightened.

"Of course, I have my reasons."

"Tell me."

"I'm counting on Mio being in the shop drawing in cute girls who'll follow her in."

"Figured as much."

Jin felt drained upon realizing Jake intended to use Mio as a mascot.

Still, he doubted that would bring in customers.

He understood it was just a pretext to make the conversation easier to accept.

"Can I ask a favor? Just until the next academic term."

"About three months. Leave it to me."

Jin turned to Jake, who had readily agreed, and offered his thanks before beginning his return journey.

The hyperloop ride back, which Mio had been looking forward to, ended without fanfare.

He walked the path home.

Ship 1 had already switched to night mode.

The zenith screen, which had shown the blue sky during the day, now operated in transparent mode.

The light of countless stars spread across the sky.

Jin looked up at the worlds he had once fought over.

"Far away, isn't it."

Only moments ago, this had felt like his own backyard. Now, it was beyond reach.

When humanity still lived on planets, the constellations had always been fixed.

They had drawn shapes from those patterns, called them constellations—though that culture had long since vanished.

Now, only chaotic stars shone.

He felt the weight of his back.

Jin wonders what will become of this child.

Can she be happy with such a negligent guardian?

Countless possibilities should shine like stars in the sky.

Will he end up narrowing those possibilities?

He feels unease.

Had he acted too hastily?

Would Mio have been happier if they had parted there, as they were?

That unease settles deep within him.

"What should I do?"

He asks without thinking, to his right.

Sharon is not there.

"Really, what’s the best course?"

He murmurs, looking up at the sky.

At that moment, a faint shimmer enters his vision.

"That’s…"

The glow of ether.

He thinks perhaps someone is conducting drills somewhere, then immediately laughs at himself.

Impossible. There’s no reason to train at such a time.

In space, there is no day or night. Nighttime training has no meaning.

Peaceful complacency.

Jin realized the words applied to him as well.

"Enemy attack."

The words slipped through clenched teeth.

As Jin’s eyes widened, the etheric glow intensified in succession.

Overlight near the convoy — a transfer via warp, as known.

A catastrophic failure: several observation team members decapitated.

"Once a ship takes hold, it’s trouble… What are you doing?"

The defense forces moved sluggishly.

It was clear they had been caught off guard.

Even now, visible to the eye, no alarm sounded — proof enough.

Combat had begun.

Knowing this, Jin ran toward the shelter.

The worst-case scenario — ASID infiltration into a ship.

If that happened, this place would become hell.

The shelter offered no absolute safety.

Yet it was infinitely safer than remaining here.

He could not fight now.

Then the only option is to keep Mio out of combat.

Eyes scanning upward while running.

To gain even a slight distance from the falling debris in case the hull ruptures.

As he does so, he recognizes the anomaly of the ASID that attacked this time.

"Humanoid..."

A type he has never seen before.

ASID consume an entire planet's ecosystem.

It is said that, in the process, they assimilate the dominant lifeform of the planet and transform it into their own kind.

That is the origin of their name.

Adversary Superior Infectious of Disorder. Commonly known as ASID.

They became known as the superior, infectious, and disorderly adversary.

Once, the ASID that attacked their home planet eventually evolved into a humanoid form.

Then the entity attacking this fleet now must be a survivor. No.

The ASID that attacked their home planet have already lost their Queen type.

Their ecology is a collective with the Queen type at its apex.

When the apex is lost, the collective ceases entirely.

The combat Jin initiated on his own recently was likely an attack aimed at that apex.

Thus, the likelihood that it was the same species responsible for the assault on their home planet is low.

If so.

"Then it's possible there are humanoid lifeforms on some distant star."

Aliens, as they are commonly called. Sentient beings humanity has yet to encounter.

Regrettably, it seems they did not witness the first contact.

Their origin is of interest, but more significant is the peculiarity that it was Jin’s consciousness that was seized—by a humanoid ASID.

Defense forces have always trained with the more frequently encountered worm-type ASID in mind, specifically those referred to as earthworm-type individuals.

—Ironically, the morphology of ASID has served as evidence that complex life forms are rare in this universe.

Humanoid forms should not possess consciousness.

The worst folly: humanity fighting humanity.

Human combat training is nearly nonexistent across all fleets, designed to avoid such confrontations.

Jin thinks it might prove difficult.

Five minutes since Jin noticed the situation.

The alarm finally sounds.

Most humans have only heard this alarm during evacuation drills.

It is natural the defense forces would have dealt with threats before they reached this close.

Jin, having acted ahead of others, reaches the shelter before the crowd surges.

Mio, too, stirs awake at the loud noise.

"What sound...?"

"Alarm. Enemy approaching. Evacuate."

"Enemy...? W-wait, the sky is beautiful."

The battle begins.

Combat using ether weapons resembles a vivid display of light, like an illumination show.

Jin understands that beauty.

Even knowing one of those lights brings destruction.

A child without that knowledge would see it as purely beautiful.

"Oi."

Mio waves her hand toward the sky.

Perhaps she mistakes it for some kind of event.

Jin quickens his pace, thinking it far better than being cried over.

He reaches the shelter first, glancing up at the sky before entering.

An especially large explosion—someone must have been destroyed.

Enemy or ally. At this distance, impossible to tell.

All he can do now is pray for his side's victory inside the shelter.

The air is tense with displaced civilians.

Among them, Mio stands firm, not crying like the other children—she might be something special.

The alarm is lifted half a day later.

A broadcast announces that an emergency override has been executed using stored resources.

It is also announced that the fleet could not hold the line and had no choice but to retreat.

Starting that day, alarms began to ripple through the convoy at irregular intervals.

The days of pursuit commenced—unprecedented since the convoy’s inception.