We're Completely Screwed
<Betelgeuse's regular-grade light carrier has been sunk by Chuchu's Bessarabia-class battlecruiser!>
Even as they were being torn apart, they somehow kept chipping away at the All-Star team's strength, bit by bit, putting on a display of resistance so stubborn it almost hurt to watch.
Of course, no matter how hard they fought, with the Kraken's assault and the Hresvelgr's self-destruct both having failed, their chances of winning were slim at best—
—BOOM!
<Monalisa's regular-grade light cruiser has been sunk by Elrance's Meteor-class heavy cruiser!>
The reason Icarus's team managed to snatch kills here and there even while fighting such a hopeless battle—the reason they weren't simply being massacred one-sidedly—was simple.
Unlike its complete lack of presence up until now, the Neranzara had been quietly crippling the All-Star team's ships, driving space torpedoes into the engines and anti-air systems of the various air-defense vessels that had formed the defensive line during the missile spam, or straight into their bridges.
And inside that Neranzara-class subspace submersible…
"We're completely fucked."
…was our Icarus, who had relocated after throwing the Hresvelgr-class away as a suicide bomb.
At the same time, deep within the atmosphere of a massive gas giant that the All-Star team had dismissed as mere natural terrain and paid no attention to whatsoever, a periscope buoy jutted out, radiating strange spatial fluctuations in every direction. That alone was enough to tell the story: the Neranzara-class subspace submersible, which had kept such a low profile until now, was submerged in subspace with only its buoy exposed, watching the situation unfold.
And inside that submersible, of course, were Jessica and me—having abandoned the Hresvelgr and transferred over.
Unlike the bridge of the grand and magnificent Hresvelgr, though, the Neranzara's bridge—perhaps owing to its nature as a subspace submersible—had not a single observation window looking outside. The only thing on display was a screen fed by the periscope buoy floating on the spatial surface between subspace and reality. I stared at it calmly, organizing my thoughts.
We're fucked…
It was a conclusion reached after careful deliberation, and one I could state with absolute conviction.
"Jessica. We're all completely fucked."
"Commander, you already come with a dick attached."
"…Right."
I hadn't expected her to counter my masterpiece of a joke like that. Filing Jessica's line away in my mental notes for future use, I turned my gaze back to the screen and picked up the thread of conversation where I'd left off.
"Our side can't win, can we?"
"No. No matter how outstanding this Neranzara-class is, it can't single-handedly wipe out at least seventy percent of the remaining enemy ships."
"So it comes down to firepower in the end."
"That's right."
Unlike when I'd been using it for potshots from another ship, actually boarding and operating the Neranzara myself had given me a fresh appreciation for why—for all its absurd survivability—the ship itself was never called outright broken.
One of the Neranzara's broken features was the space torpedo, which only exited subspace a few seconds before impact. The problem was that its firepower was considerably weaker than expected. How weak, exactly? The Neranzara could fire a maximum of about eight space torpedoes at once—and even landing all eight on target was only barely enough to sink a single destroyer.
That said, perhaps because the Neranzara had been stuck on support duty this battle without racking up any real kills of its own, Jessica puffed out her cheeks beside me and voiced her dissatisfaction.
"Still, it's a little disappointing. If we'd played it right, the Neranzara could have sunk two or three ships at least."
I raised a single finger at her and clicked my tongue.
"Jessica, Jessica. The Neranzara-class is a truly critical trump card."
"Hmm… is it?"
"Think about it. From the moment I started operating the Neranzara-class in this event until now—have I ever revealed it even once during combat?"
"Ahh."
If I ever ended up in PvP against someone else down the line, I wanted the Neranzara-class to jam space torpedoes into the back of that user's skull and deliver a proper surprise. Was there any need to show off my precious secret weapon to the other rankers for free?
Besides, didn't everyone keep at least one secret weapon that nobody else knew about?
"With that in mind—exposing the Neranzara-class right as the event is wrapping up would be… you get it, right?"
"I understand, Commander."
"And another thing, Jessica. You already know the Neranzara-class can't do any more meaningful work even if it wanted to, don't you?"
"I was just saying."
And beyond that reasoning, there was one more critical reason the Neranzara-class could no longer contribute…
"Commander, all remaining space torpedoes have been expended in the last full salvo."
"Yeah, figured."
Given that the resources I'd brought were completely zeroed out, I'd offloaded every weapon on the Neranzara-class except the space torpedoes onto the Hresvelgr and the other ships. So just as the bridge NPC reported, with every last space torpedo spent, our Neranzara-class was now reduced to a vessel that could do nothing except submerge into subspace.
And so I sat there in safety, watching the battle unfold—and the moment the Neranzara's support cut out and I confirmed our allies were getting pushed hard, I quietly opened the chat window. Figuring we'd put up a hell of a fight, I typed out a clean suggestion to just surrender already.
The long, long event was over.
Of course, one or two people responded that maybe we should hold out a little longer—but what could you do? The only real chance we'd ever had of winning was if the other side hadn't taken the bait and slammed ninety percent of their fleet head-on into us at the start. That ship had already sailed.
For those reasons, our team surrendered nine-to-one, and the game ended on the spot. As always, the moment it was over, we were whisked away to the waiting lobby without so much as a chance to chat with anyone else.
Unlike before, when we'd had all sorts of ships—especially the grand and magnificent Kraken and Hresvelgr—the only vessel present now was the tiny little Neranzara, and the atmosphere felt rather lonely for it.
Or rather, it was lonely only on the outside of the ship.
Because of the surrender, all of our Superhumans who had been deployed elsewhere were instantly teleported onto the Neranzara's bridge.
"Oh my."
"Commander, did we lose?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Mmm. It was a golden opportunity to make that exceptional ship—the Anomalocaris—ours."
"A regrettable tale indeed. Handled well, it would have made a fine tribute for Princess Luka, and even for Her Majesty the Queen."
"Nyaaaa… that was so hard!"
"It was a useful battle in its own right. Combat against Superhumans of our caliber or higher is hardly a common occurrence."
"We did our best♡ Commander♡"
"Oppa, praise me!"
Whoa.
With our Superhumans—who'd infiltrated the enemy fleet and lived to tell the tale—all flooding onto the bridge at once, the space around me transformed in an instant into something resembling a bustling marketplace.
But that only lasted a moment. The moment an event-related message appeared before my eyes with a cheerful little chime, I shot a glance at Jessica, who was standing a short distance away, signaling her to send our Superhumans to the break room for now.
"Alright, alright, everyone did great, so go rest. The Commander's busy right now."
Catching my look, the sharp-witted Jessica immediately shooed the seven Superhumans who'd been clinging all over me away from the area.
"Tch."
"Hmph."
"I worked so hard in that battle—I need a recharge of Icarosneum, you know."
Of course, being Superhumans, they exercised their right of refusal with little head-shakes and stubborn little noises at Jessica's gestures.
"You can do that as much as you want later. Right now, the Commander's business is more important, so hurry along."
Not a chance.
Regardless of appearance, age, or gender, an adjutant was ultimately a kind of final defensive line for player-commanders—and with the added weight of the title "Commander's Adjutant," the Superhumans who kept resisting for no good reason, Marianne and Pashtura included, were overpowered by Jessica and dragged bodily out of the bridge.
Jessica dumped them outside and came straight back in, of course.
Having watched that whole minor spectacle, I shook my head and decided to check the newly appeared message. Fortunately, it wasn't anything that would cause me harm. If anything, it was news I'd been waiting a very long time to hear.