18 Standby for Deployment

"Though sudden, you third- and fourth-years will be assigned to patrol duty effective today."

Morning briefing.

Perhaps comparable to homeroom time at a conventional school.

The words delivered by their instructor to the assembled fourth- and third-years in the auditorium.

Reaction is thinner than expected.

Rather than surprise, there is a sense of inevitability.

"Schedule will be irregular. Be mindful. Patrol duty begins this afternoon—four hours. Morning hours are reserved for actual unit calibration. Any questions?"

"What about today’s scheduled lecture?"

That question was bound to arise first.

Jin nodded once and replied.

"Postponed. Schedule adjustment is underway. Any others?"

A few trainees visibly disappointed upon hearing "postponed."

Jin glanced down at them,轻蔑 with a faint smirk.

"Wh—what should we do when we detect the enemy?"

"Generally, consult the squad leader who temporarily assumes command over you. However, training squads are not required to engage in delaying actions. Withdrawal is permitted."

The trainee who had asked with a pale face regained a hint of color in their expression.

That was to be expected.

Knowing withdrawal was allowed eased the tension somewhat.

Another trainee grimaced after hearing the instructor’s reply.

"Question, Instructor. What exactly is a temporary superior? I thought combat instructors would be present during such situations."

The others nodded in recognition, murmuring, "Ah, that's right."

Typically, when a training squad is deployed for missions or drills, a combat instructor serves as the commanding officer.

They must have assumed, naturally, that they would carry out missions under Jin’s command.

“I… will not be accompanying you.”

It took Jin considerable effort to utter those words.

A growing sense of inadequacy settled within him.

Why could he not fight now?

“Each of you will demonstrate your training outcomes… if no one else, begin live-unit calibration. Assemble at your respective hangars.”

He cut through the questions with haste.

He did not want to be pressed further on this matter.

The guilt he carried compelled him to do so.

Three hours remaining.

This would surely be the fastest three hours of his life.

And after that, four hours of unbearable length awaited.

Recent attacks had suspended the trainees’ live-unit exercises.

Naturally, they had not touched actual units in some time.

“It’s been a while since we’ve ridden a real unit, huh.”

Even in a situation like this, it’s a little comforting, isn’t it?

I wonder if I’ll get in trouble if I take a photo.

Jin feels a slight relief at the trainees’ familiar demeanor.

If they had been trembling with pure fear.

He wouldn’t have known what words to offer.

From the shadows, several trainees watch Jin, arms crossed, lost in thought.

“Hmm, but why isn’t Instructor Higashi coming along?”

“That’s odd, isn’t it?”

The squad leader—though only a trainee—leads the class in murmured speculation.

“I heard a bit of gossip, you know…”

“Senior trainees love rumors.”

“Wait, are you sure you’re not just making this up?”

“I just overheard it! Instructor Higashi can’t actually pilot a real unit.”

Third-years and fourth-years. Anecdotes pass between seniors and juniors.

They try to keep their voices low, but their excitement grows, their voices rising.

And that reaches Jin.

(Hearing you.)

"No way that’s possible. If they can’t pilot a real unit after beating us so badly, then what are we supposed to be?"

"...Just riding it?"

"Not funny."

"No, no— it’s not that they can’t pilot. It’s that they can’t operate a real unit."

Jin thinks, rather seriously, where such talk could possibly come from.

Hardly anyone even knows about this incident.

"Actually, there’s something bigger going on than that."

"Come on, don’t say that!"

One person, whose best joke was dismissed so casually, feels indignant.

And Jin feels a faint dip of disappointment too.

(That’s not just a joke...)

Yet the topics keep shifting, one after another.

It was a scene common enough throughout the facility.

Suddenly, Jin understands.

This is how they distract themselves from anxiety.

Calmness is impossible.

Even on patrol, the possibility of immediate combat remains.

After a moment of thought, Jin identifies one thing he can do.

He scans the hangar, locating the target.

"Long time no see, Sergeant. You alright?"

"Lieutenant! Recently, your reckless orders have been absent—so I'm in excellent spirits."

The blonde Sergeant speaks, her tone difficult to read—joking, or serious, it is unclear.

A gifted mechanic responsible for maintaining Jin's Raven.

Like Jake, she was also in the same cohort as Jin.

"I actually have a request…"

"Ugh… that’s definitely going to be exhausting again…"

Jin feels a twinge of guilt, yet he still voices his request.

"I'm actually serving as an Instructor right now..."

"Ah, I see. You've been overseeing the trainees' real-unit adjustments. Hm-hm. Got it—so you want me to look after your rookie's machine, is that it?"

"Exactly."

Jin nods.

The Sergeant surveys the group. Even at a glance, she counts at least a hundred trainees.

"...I might end up disliking Lieutenant status."

"Try not to."

She knows from experience.

If she's handling the maintenance, there'll be no need to worry about the machines.

"Next time, treat me to dinner, really..."

"Cube food would be fine."

"Um, I do think so. Only Third Fleet personnel actually enjoy eating that kind of ration, you know?"

The Sergeant, from another fleet, turns a humid gaze toward him and lets out a single sigh.

It's impossible for me to inspect every single detail thoroughly. I'm only doing a final check—don't expect too much.

"Yeah. If you're the one verifying it, I'm at ease."

"Always saying things like that..."

The sergeant grimaces slightly, rolling his shoulders.

"If you say that, I can't help but want to take responsibility."

With that, the sergeant began issuing orders to the other maintenance personnel.

The aircraft are now secure.

In the meantime, Jin called up the current fleet's surrounding space map.

"Two debris fields. Wind—nothing significant."

Large debris, asteroids. In vacuum, wind does not exist.

Their gravitational fields act as if wind, introducing external disturbances.

Fortunately, no other object in the vicinity generates enough gravity to cause such effects.

"If worst comes to worst, we can hide within those debris fields."

Selection of emergency evacuation sites.

The mere presence of a place to retreat to provides a measure of reassurance.

Of course, debris fields are not safe zones.

Locations where wreckage from combat accumulates.

Under normal circumstances, assault frame armor remains undamaged by debris alone.

Ether coating.

A defensive armor layer deployed as a membrane over the surface of the armor, generated from the reactor's ether.

Functions essentially as a secondary armor layer.

A robust barrier, impervious to impacts from equal or lesser amounts of ether.

Even so, occasionally high-velocity debris breaches the defense through sheer force.

The coating remains supplementary.

It does not guarantee absolute invulnerability.

Thus, complacency leads to becoming part of the debris oneself.

"…In the worst case, we have no choice but to use the fleet itself as a shield."

Seems inverted, yet every移民 ship in the移民 fleet maintains a massive ether reactor.

The ether generated from it can deploy an ether coating far surpassing that of an assault frame.

Thus, the fleet's defensive capability alone is vastly superior.

It is more efficient to use the fleet as a shield and counterattack skillfully than to risk destruction by force.

Jin compiles these data points with the trainees' craft adjustments.

For now, he erases the memory of arguing with Mio from his mind.

He forgets his own inadequacy, his own shame.

If he does not give his full effort in this moment, the trainees may not return.

That thought drives Jin forward.