13 Episode 3: Phantom Raid (Part 2)

_A few days earlier

_Velmar-Caldinus 1st Major Space Route / Confederation Military Interstellar Transport Cruiser - Kestrel / Mess Hall

I stared fixedly at the large pile of food placed right before my eyes. The food wasn't mine, mind you. It was the meal of the person sitting across from me.

His name is Marco Ramirez, and is also a citizen hailing from the Velmar Space Sector. We were the only two Velmarians among the recruits who boarded this transport cruiser, so we're kind of stuck together presently.

He's actually a pretty swell guy. Says his family made a killing during Velmar's real estate boom, so he was one of those nouveau rich folks. But he wasn't stuck up and was pretty easygoing.

He was a little bit too chatty though. And, as I found out recently, quite a glutton as well.

"Mmmh... Hmm... Hey, dish shtuffs phretty ghood. Mgh... Ain't ya gonna take a bite Ryuu? Mm! Ghreat!" Marco asked while continuing to stuff food into his mouth.

Okay... He has horrible table manners too, apparently. Food scraps and spittle nearly fly toward my face whenever he talks with his mouth full.

"Nah. I kinda lost my appetite for some reason." I replied while trying to stop my brows from twitching in mild annoyance.

"Hookay. Shuit yershelf. Mmm... And here I thought military food would taste like crap." Marco answered back half heartedly and focused on his culinary journey once more.

It was the very picture of contradiction.

Marco Ramirez. Eighteen years old. Tall. Handsome. Smooth, black hair in a stylish cut. Sporting a healthy tan. Body more fit and toned than mine would ever be. And a total chowhound...

The sight before me made me mentally facepalm. The world really is unfair. It would have been better for my self esteem if he was actually fat instead. Would've seemed more appropriate too.

Yeah, in times like this, a fatty friend was essential!

...Oh, who am I kidding? Ugh... It's not I'm in a webnovel or something.

After devouring the veritable mountain of food, Marco whipped out a silk handkerchief and elegantly wiped the sides of his mouth. Needless to say, the twitching of my brows intensified.

"So Ryuu, which division were you signing up for again?" he suddenly asked.

"I was told it was the 353rd Experimental Tactical Armored Division." I answered while observing my current company's expression.

For some reason, whenever I told this to the other recruits on board, they would almost always give me weird looks. It was really bugging me, to be honest.

It seems like guys like me, who already had their names listed for entry to a specific division, were the exceptions rather than the norm. The others were to be divided after confirming the available quotas for all the divisions stationed at the base we were going to be assigned to.

Just what kind of division was the 353rd?

Apparently, Nightingale already processed my application the moment I submitted my job application to her back at the Grigwald City Job Center, leaving me no choice on the matter. It was all planned in advance. She even bumped up my age by one.

I mentally sighed while waiting for Marco's reaction, which was unexpectedly a bit anti-climatic.

"Oh. That's a good place. It'll really help you build some character. Would've wanted to go there myself, if I could." Marco said in a noncommittal manner.

"So, what kind of place is it exactly?" I probed.

"Hm? Oh, well... Lessee... Uh, it's a place which can either be heaven or hell, depending on the type of person who's joining. That's all I'm willing to say though. Life's more interesting with a few surprises here and there, wouldn't you say buddy?" he answered a bit cryptically.

'I'm sorry, but I really think I'd had enough surprises at this point in my life.' I mentally retorted while making a vacant expression.

"Well, I'm stuffed. So whaddya say we check if there are any hot hunnys among the trainees this time huh? Watch the stars. Get some numbers. The works. We can back each other up. C'mon man. It'll be great." he invited with a lecherous glint in his eyes.

Hot hunnys? That's so last century.

However, before I could even give my answer—

"Shi— What the hell?!" one of the guys sitting on the table next to us exclaimed in agitation as his meal dropped to the floor after a sudden strong tremor rocked the entire ship.

***

_Kestrel / Bridge

"Where in blazes did that attack come from?!" the captain of the ship shouted at the CIC operator.

"From six o'clock sir. Range 2. T- The sensors didn't detect anything at all!" came the panicked reply.

"That just killed our main thrusters Captain! This isn't looking good." another warned.

"Anti-proton torpedoes incoming! They're also sending out TFs sir! Six of them!" the CIC operator added, aghast.

The captain was dumbfounded. In all his years spent navigating through this sector, this was the first time he'd encountered bastards with enough balls to pull something like this here - especially with all the stringent security measures present.

But this wasn't the time to act all confused. The captain quickly gave orders to the crew.

"Immediately send an SOS to Caldinus Base and any surrounding friendlies. Raise the barrier! Concentrate output to the rear of the ship. Transfer power to the auxiliary thrusters. Kozlow, can the Genion Drive still be used for a jump?"

"G- Give me five minutes sir. I'll get it done with the repair drones right away. But we can only get as far as the edge of the Velmar-Caldinus border."

"That's good enough. Finish it in two! Hillock, get the pilots of the 151st ready for sortie. And... tell them I'm sorry." the captain finished relaying his orders; reluctantly giving out the last one.

"...Yes sir." the CIC operator surnamed Hillock replied grimly. He knew full well what the last order entailed.

***

_Kestrel / Hangar

The leader of the Tactical Frame squadron dispatched by the 151st to escort the Kestrel sighed after receiving their orders through the comm. He was already inside his unit, which was being prepped for sortie.

"What's up Cap? Why the glum mug?" one of his squad members asked. The angular face of a blue eyed, fair skinned male appeared on a sub-window.

"We just got our orders. Pirate attack, from the looks of it. Six hostile TFs incoming. Possibly more. We're being asked to hold the line while the Kestrel prepares for a Drive Jump. The ship Captain sent us his apologies." the squad leader - a gaunt faced, olive skinned man sporting a buzz cut - replied grimly.

The fair skinned pilot wolf whistled. "So we got the short end of the stick again huh? Same as always, right? Sides, we gotta ensure the safety of the VIPs on this ship. Some of those kids have really scary guardians after all. Any of em get hurt, and the top brass would be drowning in deep shit." he nonchalantly replied.

"Yeah, Cap. We understand. And you can't seriously be thinking we're all going to croak out here right? I mean, we got Ol' Jin in our squad after all." a young woman sporting shoulder length red hair chimed in from another sub-window.

"What the heck are you implying Hilde?" a chubby, black haired young man cut in on the video feed.

"I meant it would be too cruel if you bit the dust while staying virgin." the young woman guffawed in a very unladylike manner.

The squad leader smirked in amusement. 'These kids. Honestly.' he inwardly thought. He glanced at the main camera feed and saw the hangar personnel give the okay. He took a deep breath and put on his pilot helmet. He then moved his unit - a 3rd Generation TMU-61 Bradfort - on top of the catapult platform.

"Look alive kiddies! It's show time. Bridge says the enemies are custom Grisham models. Don't underestimate them just because they're bargain bin units. Give them all you've got and send them packing!" he shouted at the comms to boost morale, despite the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right with their enemies this time around. This owed to his years of experience on the battlefield.

This was the source of his apprehension earlier. But there wasn't any place for hesitation on the battlefield. He hardened his resolve and swore to do all he can to accomplish his orders and protect his squadron.

"Zephyr squadron, move out!"