Stars in the Crossfire
The enemy Nexus designated for A. Sabre elimination had flares mounted on one shoulder. I had missiles loaded on both of mine. Missiles streaked from a total of eight pods, carving dense trajectories toward the enemy.
Thud thud! Something sprayed out radially from the enemy plane, and half the missiles veered off course.
Defensive tactics haven't changed.
As expected, not much different from the game. In real combat, exploiting it fully would be tough, but knowing the style gave me a solid start.
As I closed in on the enemy, a new signal pinged on radar. Nexus type. Approaching at high speed. The mission target was just one A. Sabre, and intel said only one Nexus pilot on site.
I didn't panic. It was just like the game, after all.
Same pattern as with Don Quixote. He'd dragged out an unmanned Nexus called "Sancho" as support back then too.
Thud thud! The four Nexuses tangled in the wasteland.
Take out the unmanned one first.
Even if it was sloppy, it was still annoying from the flank. Better to end it quick since I could.
Anon read my moves and naturally engaged A. Sabre. I glanced at them, then quickly handled the support drone first.
Bang, bang. Two shotgun blasts. Then a missile barrage right in its face.
Pretty decent moves for an unmanned Nexus...
Still, from a neural-linked pilot's perspective, its sluggishness was inevitable. The Nexus went down in under ten seconds after repeated hits to weak points.
I flowed seamlessly into the fight with A. Sabre, a suspicion nagging at me.
Come to think of it, the difference from Sancho...
Don Quixote's Sancho was a simple AI mounted in a Nexus, cataloged as such. But this one I'd just scrapped? Classified as a drone.
Someone remote-controlling it from elsewhere, probably.
Not a registered pilot with Nexus tech—some outsider. Getting intrigued by off-stage players might just be a bad habit.
I shelved the thought and focused on A. Sabre.
But after a bit, it didn't even need full focus. Two-on-one, with a player on my side. Fighting the Nexus felt half like a picnic—I could take it easy.
Feeling the lull, Anon started chit-chat. My silence must've been taken as a yes—he just went ahead.
Couldn't read the intent. Not Nexus pilot talk or business—this guy.
"Piloting Nexus."
"You think it's not?"
Utterly pointless conversation. What was I even doing?
While we traded barbs, the enemy drowned under the hail of bullets. The disconnect was almost funny.
Why ask that...? No point questioning. Reasons could be fabricated later anyway.
I mulled it over, then spat it out.
"...Stargazing."
Anon's voice cut off there, heavy with some emotion in the silence.
Meanwhile, clack clack. Enemy armor chipped away, durability down to 20%. All in under two minutes since engagement.
Even now, no more dialogue beyond that earlier "Tough..." Taciturn guy.
Musing on the quiet guy, the chatty one piped up. Objectively not loud, but felt that way.
"Astronomer? Dunno... probably not."
It stemmed from my past life, but now I was getting the sense. I could grasp the thread of that dream.
"Just a vague fancy. But you know words like astronomer."
Space dev had declined so far kids forgot shooting stars. Impressive he knew it. Felt out of sync with this world.
"Why ask anyway?"
Swore off reasons, but it slipped out.
"Stars... "
Why stars? Stargazing's just nice. But beyond that, maybe the 'dream'-worthy reason hidden inside.
"Dark. They sparkle in the dark. Maybe drawn to that irony."
"What would be?"
No irritation. Just accepted it. Now I had his number.
"Hope it was nutritious for you."
Silence again. Enemy durability teetered in single digits, barely clinging.
Amazing it hadn't lost power systems yet, gasping on faintly.
Thud, boom! Durability whittled down. Silence stretched.
Seemed like Anon was holding back words deliberately. Odd timing for a pause. Probably just a feeling.
I finished the enemy. A few stray rounds exceeded its overload threshold, frying the pilot's nerves.
A. Sabre—silent through the fight—oxidized away. Engagement over.
I stared at the enemy, halted with faint flames. Better than generator meltdown and explosion.
Sonya and Anon's exchange faintly registered.
Satisfied with what? No reason to ask.
Vrooom... Anon's machine moved first. It paused, looked at me staring at the enemy.
"These anti-corp forces here..."
I knew the answer already. Sonya provided it.
"Yeah."
As expected.
Anon's machine receded. I...
Hm.
Bit of time left? I pointed toward the pollution epicenter, cranked boosters.
The site's pollution got bearable after hours. Head throbbed like a vice, but not fatal.
Vrooom... Landed at a school facility. No bright colors—peeling paint exposed bare concrete, bleak as hell.
They holed up here.
Pollution. Convinced it'd keep outsiders away? Anti-corp tents and barracks abandoned in haste, now empty.
Creak, creak. Wheeled into the school. Chill lingered.
School, huh...
Once a school, sure. But modified everywhere. Not by anti-corps.
Lab facility.
Pollution ground zero, so 23rd clinical trial site. Explains the drab, un-school-like sterility.
Crossed the silent halls—no wind, just quiet. Crossed more...
Just existed in the barren scene.
"......"
Stopped mid-motion. Light leaked under one door. Yellow light. Only one lit amid darkness—eye-catching.
Someone there?
Creak, creak. Headed over thoughtlessly. Click, opened the door. Clunk.
A man sat at a desk. Faded jacket, hair neatly swept from a close-shaved side. Eyepatch over one eye.
And... posture. One arm extended toward me. Fisted hand...
Something black atop the clenched fist. Reflected the harsh yellow bulb—sleek black sheen. Heavy feel. Circle, small sight on top...
"......"
Handgun. Man aimed pistol at me.
"Who're you?"
"Rabe."
"The pilot who hit us today."
Silence.
"Know what you've done?"
Didn't answer. Silence.
"Probably not. Experiments here... not human to human. Worst kind."
He eyed me. His remaining eye met mine.
"Graduated academy?"
"No."
"Then why pilot Nexus?"
"Happened that way."
Happened that way. No real reason.
He fell quiet.
"......I see."
Click cock. Hammer pulled. Cylinder spun. Revolver.
"...Right. That's the world."
Muzzle shifted from me... to his temple.
Gloomy stare fixed on me. I watched, then left the room.
Click. Closed door.
Bang!
Shot inside.
"......"
Silence followed. Curtain fell.