Asteroid Belt Search (7)
The unmanned fighters, still operating under the final commands from the unidentified vessel, fought to the very last unit before being completely destroyed. However, of the eight high-speed boats that had engaged, six—excluding the two that were sunk during the battle—lost their will to fight and declared surrender.
By the time the boarding parties dispatched from the cruiser and destroyer had systematically detained the pirates and secured control of the six vessels, the technical officer had projected a massive magic circle onto the bridge’s main panel and was explaining why analysis was proving impossible.
“On the left is the standard spatial jump magic circle currently used by the Federation. On the right is the spatial jump magic circle employed by the Golden Horn Pirates.”
Freesia tilted her head slightly as she alternated her gaze between the Federation’s blue magic circle and the Golden Horn Pirates’ green one.
“They look quite similar, don’t they?”
Just as Freesia observed, the two circles shared many similarities. To a complete amateur, they might even appear identical.
“If they’re that alike, shouldn’t we be able to analyze it somehow?”
Again, Freesia’s point was valid—the circles looked similar enough at first glance to be considered the same. But the technical officer shook his head as if the idea were absurd. While a flotilla headquarters or fleet command might manage it, a mere battalion-level technical team attempting to decipher such a complex magic circle was simply beyond their capabilities. Explaining this reality in a way that satisfied command was now his assigned duty.
“First, please look at this section.”
When the technical officer manipulated his terminal, portions of the green magic circle turned black, while others shifted to red.
“The black sections are dummy elements.”
Dummy elements. In short, meaningless parts deliberately added to complicate analysis—sections that could be present or absent without affecting the circle’s function. Yet they couldn’t simply be scribbled in arbitrarily.
They had to be inscribed in such a way that they wouldn’t interfere with the completed magic circle. Randomly inserting dummies carried a high risk of unexpected interactions with existing components, potentially triggering unforeseen results.
Just as Freesia was thinking that removing the identified dummies might gradually reveal the circle’s true form, the technical officer continued his explanation.
“And the red sections are stealth magic circles.”
At the mention of transparency, not only Freesia but also the officers from other departments listening in looked puzzled. They had seen no sign of the pirates’ ships concealing themselves during the spatial jump.
“This magic circle doesn’t hide the ship itself. It conceals portions of the spatial jump magic circle.”
The technical officer’s explanation was lengthy, but it could be summarized as follows:
Having finished his explanation, the technical officer waited anxiously for Freesia’s instructions. There were always superiors who, unwilling to appear incompetent, would demand results no matter what. If Freesia understood the situation, that would be fortunate. But if she insisted on analysis regardless, his team would be stuck wrestling with an impossible problem.
Fortunately, Freesia issued a reasonable order.
“Organize the data and prepare a formal report. However, it will be attached when we submit to flotilla headquarters, so please work quickly.”
Not long after the report containing the technical officer’s findings was submitted, an official directive arrived from flotilla headquarters. Following its instructions, Freesia entered the secure communications room to speak with the stars above.
“…As a result, we failed to capture the enemy’s main vessel.”
Upon receiving the battle report, Brigadier General Lavire looked at Freesia, whose ears drooped in clear disappointment, with a surprised expression.
In truth, even when deploying the 2nd Search Battalion into the asteroid belt, Brigadier General Lavire had not felt entirely at ease. During the Nehilem Star System engagement four years ago, Freesia had barely survived near-total annihilation in her first war. Combined with her meteoric promotion and consequent lack of experience, he had intended for her to remain at the supply port, handling routine search-and-reconnaissance duties to help her adapt. The sudden appearance of pirates had shattered that plan entirely.
Yet from the moment contact was made, Freesia’s command had been remarkably steady, showing no glaring flaws. She had neither retreated in blind fear nor charged recklessly in panic. Instead, she had drawn the enemy into combat at maximum range to preserve a retreat option, then demonstrated excellent situational judgment by ceasing main battery fire and focusing on shields when the enemy deployed unknown capabilities. The only regrettable decision was advancing her flagship to protect the fleet—though even that was understandable given her past record.
She must have been afraid her subordinates would be endangered, or worse, killed. At the same time, the flow of battle suggested she had confidence in her ability to counter the enemy’s numbers. Setting those points aside, the entire sequence had been clean enough to dispel Lavire’s worries completely.
The young battalion commander seemed to blame herself for letting the enemy’s main force escape, but that outcome had been unavoidable. Even flotilla headquarters had never anticipated that mere pirates could activate such a sophisticated magic circle.
> The spatial jump magic circle activated by the unidentified enemy vessel has been identified as originating from the Satina Magic Kingdom.
> Analysis indicates the exact destination cannot be determined, but based on jump distance, the enemy main vessel appears to have completely exited the Garion System. Furthermore, the circle contains a built-in overload mechanism, suggesting it was designed as a single-use array.
Freesia thought, Just as I suspected. While the Federation could perform ship-based spatial jumps without warp gates, matching the speed and precision of that unidentified vessel was beyond their current capabilities. Attempting a spatial jump amid the turbulent mana flows of a battlefield was practically suicidal. And that was before considering the dizzyingly complex circle that incorporated stealth enchantments.
Among the civilizations vying for supremacy in space, only the Drakan Empire and the Satina Magic Kingdom could wield spatial jump magic with such freedom. Given the Drakan Empire’s frosty relations with the Federation, that left only one possibility.
“Then—!”
Watching Freesia’s face brighten, Brigadier General Lavire offered a bitter smile.
> Have you forgotten? At minimum, five additional high-speed boats remain at large.
“You’re right. I forgot for a moment.”
Small-scale pirate groups that had broken away from the Golden Horn Pirates’ control and were now operating independently.
Though she maintained a composed expression, her previously perked ears drooped again, revealing considerable disappointment.
> The system defense force is currently en route to recover the captured high-speed boats. It will take approximately two days. Maintain strict vigilance in the interim.
After Brigadier General Lavire ended the transmission and departed, Freesia stood motionless for a moment, turning his final words over in her mind. If they pushed their spatial jump capabilities, they could arrive much sooner. The fact that they were taking two full days instead was a clear instruction: cease searching until their arrival and guard the captured vessels carefully.
She wouldn’t be allowed to rest completely, but the decision not to demand continuous precision scanning all day was an enormous courtesy.
“Are those the ones?”
Of course, simply standing guard in position didn’t mean she could truly rest. Being a battalion commander involved far more work than most realized. The after-action reports she needed to review and write were numerous, yet she couldn’t ignore the captured pirates either. That was why she now found herself, exhausted as she was, listening to the boarding commander’s report.
When Freesia asked while observing the varied group of humans displayed on the screen, the boarding commander gave a light nod.
“Yes, ma’am. These are the leadership of the abandoned pirate faction.”
“The restraints—are they because of the body modifications?”
Freesia frowned slightly at the bizarre, heavily altered appearances. Unlike modern magic engineering, which harmoniously fused magic and science, these were remnants of an earlier era when pure scientific technology had flourished before magic caught up. Unlike ordinary Federation citizens, these pirates had gone far beyond simple prosthetic limbs or weapons. Some had modified eyes, internal organs, or even nerves, turning themselves into living computers.
At that level of modification, it was said a person could directly interface with networks. Until roughly four hundred years ago, such body modifications had been commonplace among Federation citizens. But with the rise of magic engineering that utilized individuals’ unique mana patterns, excessive modifications that interfered with personal mana flow gradually fell out of favor.
In the modern era, the only people still undergoing such modifications were those specially trained by the government for unique purposes or pioneers venturing into harsh, undeveloped regions for substantial compensation. Still, obsolete technology should not be underestimated. While the interference with mana flow made modern civilization difficult to enjoy, the immediate and powerful capabilities they provided were comparable to advanced magic engineering.
Especially noteworthy was the massive figure covered in every conceivable type of restraint.
“A modified human?”
The term had originally referred to anyone with partial body modification, but as the era of widespread modification arrived, its meaning had shifted to describe those who had altered more than half their bodies. Someone modified to this extent would easily overpower several heavily armed infantry soldiers, depending on the quality of their components.
Even so, the level of restraint seemed excessive.
“It appears they had other plans. The moment the boarding party was deployed, they attempted a surprise hostage-taking maneuver.”
At the boarding commander’s calm report, Freesia’s head snapped around. She hadn’t received any such briefing. The absence of a separate report meant that, regardless of the enemy’s actions, no actual incident had occurred. It would likely be noted in the formal written report, but apparently there had been no need for an urgent verbal update. Which meant someone had successfully neutralized that monstrous modified human without casualties.
Even a modified human would naturally be far weaker than knight-level special forces, but stopping one without injury using only standard powered armor infantry would have been extremely difficult.
“Fortunately, the person at the very front was the 3rd Company’s boarding platoon leader.”
Freesia briefly searched her memory for who that was, then nodded with a small sound of admiration. She remembered him because he was the battalion’s only pure-blooded beastman—and a member of the elephant clan, which was rare even in the military. No matter how much brute strength a few-hundred-kilogram modified human might possess, the 3rd Company platoon leader could generate at least a ton of force with his bare hands. Subduing the man would have been as easy as restraining a tantrum-throwing child.
Still, the outcome was fortunate. Thinking back on it now, the situation had been incredibly precarious. Had anyone else been at the front, someone might have been seriously injured—or worse, hostages could have been taken.
“They will be handed over to the recovery ship arriving in two days. I’d appreciate it if they remained quiet until then.”
At her worried tone, the boarding commander answered in a booming voice meant to reassure her.
“Please don’t worry, Commander. Any disturbance here carries a minimum sentence of life imprisonment, with immediate execution possible if necessary. They’re not fools—they’ll behave.”
The commander looks really tired…
Daisy followed Freesia as she headed toward the bridge, her expression filled with concern. After a month and a half of grueling duty, Freesia had finally declared rest—only to be forced into battle after just a few hours of sleep.
And then came the mountain of post-battle processing.
The bridge officers, including Dmitry, had urged her to rest multiple times, but they couldn’t break Freesia’s determination to finish at least some of the work before resting.
Her ears are completely drooped…
Having served Freesia for nearly two months, Daisy had diligently observed her and learned one key insight: to gauge the commander’s emotions or physical condition, one only needed to look at her ears. If they remained perked despite being buried in paperwork and complaining, she could still endure. But if her ears drooped—even if she appeared fine—it meant she was in a bad mood or her condition was poor.
Right now, she looked unwell on the surface and her ears were fully flattened.
“Huh?”
Sure enough, the moment Freesia stepped onto the bridge’s command platform, she staggered as if her legs had given out and collapsed. The nearby guard soldier lunged forward in alarm, and Daisy rushed after him just as quickly.
For a brief moment she felt immense relief that Freesia hadn’t fallen a step earlier and tumbled down the stairs. But as they hurriedly tried to support her, both the guard and Daisy’s faces turned deathly pale.
“Daisy?”
“Oh my god… E-excuse me, ma’am.”
When Freesia looked at her in confusion, Daisy—still pale—frantically pulled out a handkerchief and gently dabbed at the commander’s forehead.
“Vice Commander! The battalion commander’s condition is strange!”
At Daisy’s urgent cry, Dmitry, who had been overseeing the bridge, hurried up to the command platform. His expression hardened as well, though not quite as dramatically as Daisy’s.
Freesia herself was unaware, but her complexion had turned ghostly white and she was drenched in cold sweat.
“Sergeant! Go call the medical officer. No—relay the situation and have them prepare a sickbay room. Adjutant! I’m leaving the bridge to you! Commander, please excuse me for a moment.”
Before Freesia could even respond, Dmitry had already hoisted her onto his back and rushed off the bridge. As he sprinted down the corridor with her, he saw Petricia—having apparently already been informed—rushing toward them with medical staff and a mobile stretcher.
“Vice Commander, over here!”
Impressed by Petricia’s quick thinking, Dmitry carefully laid Freesia down on the stretcher.
In that short time, Freesia had already fallen into a deep, even sleep. Had it not been for her pale face and cold sweat, one might have thought she had simply dozed off. Yet both Dmitry and Petricia wore grim expressions.
“How long has she been like this?”
“There were no issues until after she finished the secure communication with the flotilla commander and was heading to the bridge. She was still conscious right before leaving the bridge.”
Freesia had left the reporting room forty minutes earlier. That meant these symptoms had developed with alarming speed while she was inspecting the detention area.
After rushing to the infirmary, taking her temperature, checking her pulse, and running various tests, Petricia finally let out a long sigh of relief once all examinations were complete.
“How is she?”
“Fortunately, her mana circuits show no abnormalities.”
The Federation, whose shipbuilding capabilities lagged behind other nations, had chosen to synchronize ship and captain mana circuits. This allowed outstanding captains to compensate for the vessels’ shortcomings, elevating the nation’s power enough to compete with stronger powers for dominance in space. However, the side effects were significant.
No matter how much of the impact the ship absorbed, some always transferred to the captain. This resulted in captains having shorter sustained combat endurance. In normal times it wasn’t an issue, but during full-scale fleet battles, captains’ mana circuits took enormous strain. In severe cases, like Colonel Tachyon during the Nehilem Star System battle, they would collapse from the shock.
What Dmitry and Petricia had feared most was that Freesia had collapsed from being unable to withstand the burden on her mana circuits.
Accordingly, Petricia had examined Freesia’s mana circuits with the highest priority. Fortunately, they showed no issues whatsoever. In fact, they were so pristine it was hard to believe she had just commanded a battle after maintaining precision scanning for over a month.
“She simply has a slightly elevated temperature, along with symptoms of exhaustion and dehydration. It appears that after maintaining an excessively tense state during battle, the sudden release of that tension triggered flu-like symptoms…”
Petricia checked the test results multiple times, but the conclusion remained the same: it was nothing more than a simple fever. Given that she had already been operating under extreme fatigue from over a month of precision scanning, followed immediately by battle right after attempting to rest, it was no wonder her body had reached its limit. The moment the taut tension was released, only to be pulled tight again, her exhausted body had finally given out.
“It’s a good thing the commander has such excellent mana sensitivity and is a beastman hybrid. If she weren’t, this could have been much more serious.”
“You’re certain there are no issues with her mana circuits?”
“Yes. I checked that part multiple times. Honestly, her mana circuits are astonishingly healthy. It’s hard to believe she maintained precision scanning for over a month and then fought a battle. Her mana circuit durability is truly exceptional.”
At Petricia’s explanation, Dmitry let out a sigh of relief and sank heavily into a chair.
“That’s a relief. Now that I think about it, if the captain had collapsed due to mana circuit failure, the ship’s power should have cut out. Since that didn’t happen…”
If a captain’s connection to the ship was forcibly severed due to mana circuit failure, the vessel’s power should shut down. The fact that command authority had simply transferred to Dmitry meant it wasn’t a mana circuit issue.
“Since the captain is a beastman hybrid, she should wake up by tomorrow evening at the latest. Prescribing medicine might help her wake sooner, but…”
Major Dmitry shook his head.
“She hasn’t had a moment’s rest since entering the asteroid belt. Since we have time until the recovery ship arrives, I’d like her to rest comfortably until then.”
“In that case, I’ll only prescribe antipyretics and painkillers. Nicole, Maria—bring towels and a patient gown. Vice Commander, we’ll need to wipe down the commander’s body, so could you step out for a moment?”
“Then I’ll leave her in your care.”
Once Dmitry left the infirmary, Nicole and Maria entered carrying warm wet towels and dry ones.
“Nicole, help me wipe the captain’s body. Maria, go get the antipyretics and painkillers. You’ll find cold-and-flu fever reducers and analgesics on the right shelf.”
Petricia removed Freesia’s uniform jacket and, seeing that her inner garments were soaked through as if dipped in water, quickly stripped off the rest, wiped down her damp body, and changed her into a patient gown.
Watching Freesia sleep with steady, even breaths, Petricia and the medical staff stayed by her side throughout the night.