This [“surprise attack”] relied heavily on luck.
While recon was the stated goal, Lillian had weaponized a foolish memory from her past.
The area Delan’s team scouted was where she’d once fled in an escape pod.
She’d kept this hidden, feeding Navigation Chief Mirei a plausible lie about “Tiberius detecting threats along this course” to set the route.
Whether the enemy still lurked there was unknown. The arrangement may change just as history changes.
But no matter—no recon was wasted. If the zone was clear, it became an escape route.
(Spies aboard Tiberius or not, it changes nothing. If they exist and relayed intel, the enemy had to act. Now it’s a race: Will our drones spot them first, or will they shoot the drones down? Either way, they reveal themselves.)
Lillian had another move.
She deliberately proposed a smaller number of aircraft for the reconnaissance formation. She added plausible reasoning such as “for small-scale reconnaissance and mothership protection,” but at the same time, it meant using Stella and Delan as decoys.
This strategy assumed that the enemy was trying to capture them. The opponent might think it would be easy to capture combat aircraft operated only by students in small numbers.
The possibility of being shot down was naturally within their consideration, but if the opponent happened to be an intelligent being capable of thinking, the more cautious they were, the harder it would be for them to gauge the intent behind their actions.
(This is easy for us. If something happens to the observation drones, then the first phase of the operation is complete. If they’re few in number, we can inflict damage by firing the battleship’s long-range main guns and torpedoes. If it’s a large fleet, we immediately retreat.)
Lillian looks around at the people on the first bridge.
What if one of them is a spy The thought of spies among them chilled her.
However, she can’t pursue that further right now. Above all, regarding this operation, there’s a part where Lillian been somewhat pushing herself forward.
There’s also the possibility of being suspected in return.
“But, I really don’t get it…”
It was about an hour after the reconnaissance team had launched.
Cowen leaned back in his seat and, looking up at the bridge ceiling, began to mutter such things.
“Hey, stop the private conversation,” Mirei promptly interjected.
“But, you know,” Cowen didn’t stop.
“We were attacked, right? Why doesn’t the enemy send a large fleet?”
“Well… that’s true, isn’t it?”
During these past few days.
Probably every student had wondered about this.
The attack from the mysterious enemy ship. Slipping past it and beginning to escape.
The fact that there have been almost zero attacks during that time.
That itself is one of the factors accelerating the anxiety.
“Acting Captain. Is there some kind of reason for this situation?”
“Hmm, me? No, first I should tell you to refrain from private conversation… is what I’d like to say, but I do have questions about that myself.”
Perhaps surprised at suddenly being brought into the conversation, it was an unusual reaction for Weltall.
“The enemy’s movements are unnatural. But why they took such actions is completely unclear. Even assuming they conducted an intimidating reconnaissance, whether there was a need to sacrifice a single ship. And then, we inadvertently destroyed the enemy ship. If so, we should be classified as a threat at this point. Then, forming a fleet of several ships to subjugate us… that would be the common way of thinking.”
“However, there are no signs of that.”
Recognizing this as an informal conference, Mirei also joins in.
“Yes. That’s why I think it’s eerie. We can’t read what the enemy is thinking. But couldn’t we also consider this? Coming to this space sector itself might require considerable preparation even for the enemy. Or perhaps they’re behind us in terms of warp travel or space navigation… but this is merely speculation after all.”
The distance from Earth to the Horsehead Nebula is 1,500 light-years. In reality, Tiberius is believed to be somewhere between 300 to 600 light-years away.
If so, from the perspective of the Horsehead Nebula, Tiberius’ current location could also be considered just as distant.
Those questions were never answered, even in the future.
Or perhaps, the information never reached Lillian.
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(I see… Even for Horsehead Nebula inhabitants, a 1,500-light-year journey isn’t something they can undertake lightly. That’s why the number of ships they can dispatch is limited. Or perhaps, while ultra-long-distance warp is possible, it requires preparation, making consecutive actions difficult.)
From Weltall’s deduction, Lillian felt she had found an answer to one of the many questions that had lingered for over sixty years.
Indeed, the attacks after Tiberius’ return were sporadic at best. It took four years for a full-scale fleet battle to occur.
The 1,500-light-year barrier might still be an unknown variable for both sides.
(If that’s the case… how did the spies infiltrate Earth—no, Tiberius itself?)
Just as one question was resolved, another arose.
Lillian nearly lost herself in the whirlpool of thoughts but shook her head, refocusing on the mission at hand.
To solve those mysteries, she had to survive now and return to Earth.
For that, this operation absolutely had to succeed.
“Incoming transmission from the scout team. Anomaly detected in Observation Drone No. 3.”
At Debonair’s report, the atmosphere on the bridge shifted instantly.
Even if it was just one battle, that experience hadn’t been wasted.
The enemy had taken the bait. Now, the operation would proceed to the next stage.
“Huh? Dryade, what does that mean?”
“What’s wrong, Communications Officer Debonair?”
The transmission wasn’t over yet.
Debonair tilted her head at the message before turning her gaze toward Weltall.
“From Dryade. They’re requesting… to have the carrier-based fighters stand by with torpedo armaments.”
“Stand by? Where?”
“On that point… they haven’t detected the enemy ships yet.”
Weltall fell into brief contemplation—lasting about two seconds.
“Notify the Fighter and Maintenance Divisions. Re-equip the carrier-based fighters with torpedoes and have them stand by. Be ready to sortie at any moment.”
“Understood.”
Had he sensed Stella’s intent? Weltall’s decision was swift.
“Gunnery Chief Cowen, I’ll need you on main cannon control again. Confirm coordination with CIC. Third Bridge, keep your eyes on our radar. Engine room, prepare for maximum ignition at any moment. We may need to retreat.”
Orders came one after another, each relayed precisely to their respective teams via Debonair’s communications.
“Wel, are we launching an attack?”
Richard didn’t seem opposed, but he whispered to Weltall as if seeking confirmation.
Weltall smiled faintly before answering his old friend.
“If the enemy’s lying in wait, then yes. We’re always being hunted. Besides, if my hypothesis is correct, taking out this enemy will buy us some safety. If I’m wrong… well, we’ll just have to laugh it off.”
“Hope you’re right… seriously.”
“Yeah. Otherwise, this is the end for us. If their tech is leagues ahead of ours, we’ll have no choice but to surrender—beg for our lives if we can.”
Despite his words, there was no resignation in Weltall’s eyes.
Richard recognized that expression—the face of a man who saw a chance at victory.
Lillian noticed it too. After all, he was once her first love. She could still read him.
At the same time, it was a very transparent gesture—one of a still-young boy.
“Acting Captain. Let’s order the scout team to fire all their torpedoes before returning. If the drone malfunctioned, it’s the enemy. Tiberius will advance temporarily to retrieve them, then withdraw immediately after.”
“Right, I was thinking the same. Comms Officer Debonair, relay that to the scouts. Also, sync communications with Delan in CIC. He’ll know what to do next.”
Permission for a torpedo attack—but not for defensive interception.
This was a preemptive strike. More than that, it was effectively a declaration of war.
(In the past, we were the ones constantly ambushed. But not this time. We strike first. History is changing—whether for the better or worse, I don’t know.)
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