Ch.154Fleet Battle (1)

“Hmm.”

I thoroughly examined the recent records stored in the walker’s built-in computer.

Brief reports about an unregistered giant creature, information registered after collecting nest debris scattered throughout the ship, and so on.

The cyborg I captured had sent quite a few communications in a short time.

‘The signals wouldn’t have gone outside, but…’

Even now, psychic power causing communication interference is periodically emanating from No. 26’s body. It’s nearly impossible for information sent by the walker to reach Jax-01, the capital fortress of Star Union. Even if it did arrive, it would be so severely damaged that no one could recognize it.

However, that’s not the real problem.

‘The labor supply ship.’

That ship might have registered information about me on Starlink before encountering me. In fact, the labor supply ship had detected my presence and approached me before I noticed it. They likely reported meeting me to Star Union before they arrived.

‘This makes things complicated.’

The situation has become annoying.

Even if I leave this place, Star Union’s tracking team will be on my tail.

Escaping via FTL navigation is on hold.

Powerful factions like Star Union, Cult Empire, and Megacorp have systems that can track FTL navigation in their elite fleets. Depending on how dangerous they consider me, it might vary, but if an elite fleet pursues me, escape would be impossible.

‘Even changing the ship’s appearance won’t let me hide.’

The ship I control with Nightmare Horizon exists between organism and metal. If the labor supply ship reported my characteristic as a “bio-ship,” they’ll quickly recognize me even if I change my shape.

“Hehehe, how dare you mess with a Star Union ship. You won’t die peacefully—urgh?!”

“Quiet.”

I tightened the infection tentacle around his body to silence him and checked the cards I had.

‘It’s been a month since I left the holy land. Most of my abilities are available now.’

Nightmare Horizon to take control of spaceships, “Organic Evolution” to enlarge or shrink my body, “God’s Whip” for long-range attacks acquired from the Predator’s Amorphous Polyhedron, and “Hunter’s Emblem” to transform my body into combat-suitable forms. My current state is perfect for fighting strong enemies.

But I shook my head.

‘All-out war is still risky.’

The situation is different from when I fought the Imperial Mothership. The fact that the planet I was on was the politically complex “holy land” played a crucial role.

If it hadn’t been the holy land, escaping smoothly like this would have been impossible. Even if I had escaped, I would have been chased by the Cult.

But Star Union doesn’t have such constraints.

In Star Union, ruled by the dictatorial Machine Committee as the highest authority, concepts like “politics,” “competition,” and “conflict” don’t exist.

Formally, there’s coordination between the committee and various departments, but it doesn’t hold much significance in reality. When the committee commands, all cyborgs must obey.

The Machine Committee members, except for the Supreme Commander Jubaka, are all high-intelligence androids. If they identify me as an enemy, they’ll use every means to kill me.

‘Androids are troublesome because they never let their guard down.’

They’ll surely dispatch an elite fleet with enough firepower to kill me in one go.

‘Space warfare is still difficult for me.’

With many of my physical abilities sealed, it’s like fighting with a handicap. Though I unlocked some “new type-related traits” while consuming the labor supply ship, these traits aren’t useful in my current state synchronized with the ship.

I possess several attack abilities that can crush enemy ships, but they have time limits or usage restrictions. And I don’t have advantages in defense or evasive maneuvers either.

I could overwhelm a few ships in battle, but fighting a fleet of hundreds of ships wouldn’t be easy.

The better part is that this ship I control has been modified. I’ve attached weapons obtained from dismantling Cult ships, so I won’t be helplessly overwhelmed when fighting multiple enemies like last time.

‘The bad part is that I don’t have unlimited time.’

This is Cult territory. If I get caught by the Cult while fighting here? It’s obvious I’ll be pummeled by enemies from both sides. To the Cult, I’m a bio-ship, no different from an Outspacer’s flying monster.

‘Wait? Cult?’

When I thought of the Cult, I paused.

This JP-99 system is Cult territory.

It’s a remote area without good resources, making it somewhat of a burden, but they won’t tolerate others trespassing in their territory. If they discover Star Union’s elite fleet invading their system, the two sides will surely clash.

‘I can slip away in between.’

The important thing is how to call the Cult, and fortunately, I have a means to summon them.

‘This is going to be interesting.’

After organizing my thoughts, I made a plan to escape this predicament. Though there were some risky elements, I decided to proceed.

This operation to deceive both the Cult and cyborgs was also what I did best.

‘That’s enough planning for now.’

Before explaining to those aboard the ship, I had something to take care of. I looked at the captured cyborg.

“W-what is it?”

The cyborg trembled, sensing something ominous from my gaze.

He’s going to play an important role in the stage I’m setting up. Not just as food to replenish energy.

‘It’s your turn after a long time.’

Small creatures sleeping within my body awaken at my will.

A small hole forms in the ceiling of the ship integrated with me, and something drops onto the tentacle from it. That thin, elongated rubber-like thing diligently crawls over the tentacle restraining the cyborg.

“W-wait! What is this… s-stop it!”

The cyborg, finally realizing what was about to happen to him, goes berserk.

I firmly held the cyborg to help the parasite complete its mission.

“Mmph!”

The cyborg resists fiercely.

No matter how much his body has been mechanically modified, there are limits. It’s impossible to break free from the infection tentacles strong enough to crush an entire ship.

Eventually, he too will accept the reality—that he has become a minion of a monster.

–

The Nemea Fleet stationed in the ESS-22 system received an urgent directive.

It was a message from Nemea Five, a grand councilor of Star Union’s Machine Committee and the leader of the Nemea Fleet.

“Upon confirming this content, deploy immediately to JP-99 to eliminate a newly appeared organism. It’s an extremely dangerous entity, so be sure to incinerate it with long-range strikes? Who would give such an order… It’s directly from Supreme Commander Jubaka?!”

Sanadaev, the acting fleet commander who had been delegated control of the fleet from Nemea Five, was shocked.

The Machine Committee only communicates very important matters through notifications, and it’s rare for them to issue direct orders to individual cyborgs like this. After all, the Machine Committee that runs the entire Star Union isn’t a leisurely organization.

Moreover, it’s unprecedented for the Supreme Commander, the head of the Machine Committee, to take interest. Since being converted to a machine, Sanadaev almost lost his composure for the first time.

“F, this isn’t a joke, right?”

“Authentication marks from the Machine Committee and Supreme Commander confirmed. Possibility of forgery: 0%.”

At the ship computer F’s response, he scratched his chin.

“JP-99 is Cult territory. Does the Machine Committee want war?”

ESS-22 is particularly close to JP-99 among Star Union’s jurisdictions. The reason Nemea Fleet, Star Union’s elite fleet, was stationed here was to prepare for contingencies.

‘Surely not?’

Sanadaev checked the Machine Committee’s directive again. No matter how many times he looked, there was no mention of invading the Cult.

Since the Machine Committee, except for the Supreme Commander, consists entirely of robots, they don’t use indirect speech or metaphors. It seemed his concerns wouldn’t materialize.

“What’s our current stationed force there?”

“Three Memnos-class battle cruisers and twenty Cyan-class patrol ships.”

“Being a frontier, it’s not much. No space fortress or Imperial Mothership either.”

Looking at the data displayed by F, he made his decision. Complete the mission quickly and leave before the Cult arrives.

“But what kind of organism has the Machine Committee in such a frenzy?”

About a month ago, a notice was sent to all ships.

Register data on Starlink immediately upon discovering new organisms. And implant signal chips produced by the Machine Committee in each ship—these were the two directives.

At the time, he didn’t know why such orders were issued.

“Is it that dangerous?”

“Message with attached data from the Committee confirmed.”

“Send it to my head.”

Soon, the biological data flowed into Sanadaev’s head, connected to the ship’s cable. Feeling a slight headache, he pressed his temple and checked the information.

“Hmm. A giant monster with the ability to disguise itself as a ship.”

“Model estimated to be a Jama-class escort ship from Jasbil02.”

“Jama-class? That new escort ship? Hmm.”

His first thought was that it might be a secret weapon of the Cult, but he soon denied it. The idea of creating and controlling artificial life forms is something only Megacorp would do.

‘Or it could be an Outspacer.’

As far as he knew, the giant organisms operated by Outspacer swarms didn’t look like that.

They are hideous monsters covered with biochemical-shooting organic batteries. Anyone who says they resemble Cult escort ships must have severely impaired vision or strange aesthetic sense.

However, when talking about ships made of biometal, Outspacers do come to mind first. Perhaps it’s a new space assault monster they’ve evolved.

Sanadaev carefully examined the information provided by the Machine Committee. There wasn’t as much information as he expected. Rather, annotations and hypotheses added by the Machine Committee occupied a much higher proportion.

Don’t approach due to infection concerns, absolutely no boarding, prepare countermeasures against psychic power attacks as it can use them, and so on.

Just from that, he could tell how wary the Machine Committee was of it.

‘Seems like a formidable one.’

After confirming all the data, Sanadaev contacted all ships belonging to the Nemea Fleet, instructing them to prepare as directed by the Machine Committee.

Two hours later, all 101 ships of the Nemea Fleet began preparing for FTL navigation.

A massive blue light enveloped them, visible even from the surface of planets in the system, and soon they departed from ESS-22.

Thanks to FTL navigation that easily surpassed the speed of light, the Nemea Fleet led by Sanadaev instantly reached JP-99.

“FTL navigation complete. Confirmed zero ships lost.”

“Good. Let’s finish this before the Cult notices. Release survey drones and carrier-based aircraft.”

“Confirmed.”

Drones and carrier-based aircraft poured out from Star Union’s warships, which had rectangular hulls covered with long, thorn-like cannons. There were so many drones that it looked like sand pouring from a burst sandbag.

“Search the surroundings step by step. Report immediately if you find anything unusual.”

“Confirmed.”

Drones controlled by the ship’s computer and carrier-based aircraft piloted by androids thoroughly searched through space debris and rock piles floating in space.

Several carrier-based aircraft discovered artificially synthesized metal fragments and relayed them to Sanadaev aboard the flagship.

He immediately recognized which ship those fragments came from. And also the source of the data sent by the Machine Committee.

“F. Is the FTL navigation trace check complete?”

“No trace of jumps from this system.”

“Good. It’s nearby, so everyone be careful…”

“Emergency report! Energy concentration detected ahead!”

“What?”

Before he could finish speaking, the ship’s camera showed the front view. In the empty space where there was nothing, blue energy gathered and instantly transformed into a massive structure.

“…Oh no.”

As blue light flashed, large and small Cult battleships successively appeared in front of the Nemea Fleet. Seeing this, Sanadaev muttered quietly.

“Ah, shit. We’re screwed.”

Regular Cult battleships aren’t much of a problem. The Nemea Fleet, equipped with psychic defense measures, could fight them adequately.

The problem is that massive structure firmly protecting the battleships from behind.

“Message from the captain of ‘Punisher of Gormos03’. Urgent confirmation requested.”

An ivory-colored, diamond-shaped structure—no, ship—decorated with golden ornaments.

That super-large ship that appeared before the Nemea Fleet was the Imperial Mothership, the pride of the Cult Empire.