Editing Tytania:Volume 4 Chapter 7 (section)

=== IV ===
Something strange happened.

Or rather, it did not happen. Nothing happened at all. Although the guardian angels of Uraniborg—the military satellite constellations—had the vessels of the combined Ariabert-Jouslain fleet within range, they made no attempt to fire either their rail cannons or their laser cannons.

Ariabert continued the fleet manoeuvres with complete composure, forming a new battle line. Regardless of the artistic skill required, one had to wonder how he could remain so calm while utterly ignoring the satellite swarms.

“… Ah!”

Idris groaned, suddenly realising something.

It was the programme integrated to prevent military satellites from firing upon their own side. Their cannons were capable of identifying friendly forces. Every vessel within the Tytania fleet was equipped with identification tags. And the ''Honest Old Man Junior'' was no exception.

Because all the vessels in the combined Ariabert-Jouslain fleet originally belonged to Tytania, they utilised these identification tags to avoid accidental attacks caused by misidentification from the military satellites. They were known as “talismans<ref name="ftn42">“Talisman” (護符) is pronounced “talisman”.</ref>”. These tags transmitted identification signals to the satellites, and upon receiving them, the weapons equipped on the satellites would fail to activate entirely.

Idris felt murderous intent at his own carelessness.

“Change the programme!”

Passion and regret set Idris’ voice ablaze.

“Modify the tactical computer’s programme so that it no longer accepts the identification signals sent from Ariabert and Jouslain’s vessels’ talismans!”

“It… it will take one hour.”

“Do it in thirty minutes.”

“With all due respect…”

“I said do it!”

The interception commander in charge of the tactical computer was Vice-Admiral Elsey, an elderly thin man, but as he attempted to argue further, Idris pointed a finger at him.

“You are relieved of your post. Consider yourself lucky that you aren’t being punished for disobedience.”

In the silenced room, only Idris’ voice echoed.

“Who is the interception vice-commander?”

“I am, sir.”

“Your name?”

“My name is Ridenhour.”

“Very well. From this moment on, you are the interception commander. Your rank is rear-admiral? I am promoting you to vice-admiral. The official order will be issued before the end of the day. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes.”

The newly appointed Vice-Admiral Ridenhour offered a Tytania-style salute, while Vice-Admiral Elsey, having been stripped of his rank and honour, slumped his shoulders and departed the scene in dejection. Idris did not even see him out.

“An hour should be plenty, but let us be certain.”

Ariabert, too, had devised a new plan, taking into account the time required to repair the satellite constellation.

“Attack the military satellites… no, destroy them.”

If the battle dragged on and the military satellite constellation’s programme were altered, their allies would find themselves subject to attacks from large-calibre guns. He had taken this worst-case scenario into account. The reason he had changed his phrasing from “attack” to “destroy” was because, at that moment, the military satellites entirely lacked any capacity for counterattack and would simply be pummelled whilst unable to fight back.

Having chosen his words with an odd sense of fastidiousness, Ariabert proceeded to issue a demand for the surrender of the satellite constellation.

As a result, the commanders of each satellite were forced to make a decision. Death or surrender.

“It is cowardly to launch a unilateral attack against those who lack the means to retaliate.”

Protesting in such a manner was useless. As long as their power remained active, they possessed weapons. Since they had also demonstrated the intent to use them, Ariabert had no obligation to show them mercy. If left alone, they would be under attack within an hour or two. There was no need for hesitation in striking first.

In the end, every single one of the twelve satellites, so to speak, conveyed their intent to surrender. However, it was at this moment that Ariabert issued a ruthless command.

“If you intend to surrender, aim the heavy artillery at Uraniborg.”

Ariabert’s order was a perfect specimen of “Tytanian ruthlessness”.

“Control the output and prepare to destroy up to the sixth layer of the firmament. Any failure to comply with this instruction will be deemed an intent to resist, and you shall be destroyed immediately.”

Rejection was no longer possible. Furthermore, the instruction to destroy “only up to the sixth layer” signified that Ariabert had no intention of completely obliterating Uraniborg. One after another, the commanders of each satellite yielded, and they trained their heavy artillery upon Uraniborg.

Of course, Idris knew of this, but he remained so calm that he even felt a sense of irony himself. He possessed a strange premonition that everything would be over before the heavy artillery of the satellite constellation could even fire.

Ariabert continued to issue commands.

“Fourth Unit, you’ve heard the situation. Ascend from the nadir towards the zenith, and concentrate your fire on the enemy’s reassembly point.”

“Repeating orders! Ascend from nadir towards zenith…”

The crew on the bridge must have been accumulating fatigue, fighting without any rest, yet with their sympathetic nervous systems in full operation, there was no sign of flagging morale.

Balamy noticed someone tugging at his sleeve. When he cast his gaze downwards to the left, he saw Princess Lydia looking up at him with a dead-serious expression, a small parcel held in her left hand.

“You are quite lost in thought, Bal.”

“M-my apologies, Princess. Do you require something?”

“I shall give you half of this, so let us eat together.”

Upon opening the parcel, he found several kelsey<ref name="ftn43">“Plum” or “almond” (巴旦杏) is pronounced “kelsey”, which is one of the names of the Japanese plum.</ref> biscuits inside.

“I could not possibly accept your snacks, Princess…”

“I have heard that sweets help to activate the brain cells.”

“You are well-informed.”

“Even without such a reason, one should simply accept another’s kindness.”

“You are quite right. Thank you.”

While still holding a biscuit in his mouth, Balamy glanced at the screen and his eyes widened.

“There are reserve enemy forces in that position…”

Even as Balamy stood dazed, a group of high-speed ships emerged from an unexpected location and began to assault the Uraniborg forces from the eight o’clock position, wielding blades of light to start carving through the enemy formation. Amidst the dizzying dance of light and shadow, Balamy realised that Princess Lydia was still by his side.

“Princess, if you continue to stare for so long, you will hurt your eyes.”

“I know… but it feels such a waste.”

“A waste, your Highness?”

“The Kingdom of Elbing possesses three battleships. They were purchased from Tytania forty years ago. The older models had a twenty percent discount…”

They would likely be of no use at all. They were probably nothing more than mere ornaments. Balamy empathised with how much the Princess’ heart must have ached when she heard that the forces of Uraniborg were set to attack the Kingdom of Elbing. He possessed enough experience to be capable of such empathy.

Jouslain was lost in thought.

He had come into this world from the quagmire of Tytania, surrounded by magnificent flowers. He knew where he had come from. But where, then, was he headed next?

He knew that even contemplating such things was a luxury afforded only by privilege. Soldiers caught in the heat of a fierce battle had no leisure for such pseudo-philosophical musings. In a single moment of distraction, struck by the thought of being hungry, a beam might hit them directly, ensuring they would never feel hunger again.

Despite knowing this, Jouslain drifted into his own contemplations rather than synchronising with the spirits of the soldiers. Having been born in a high position with the power to sway individual lives and the fate of nations, what was he meant to do? He had reached a tentative conclusion, but to bring it to fruition…

“Lord Jouslain, what are you doing?”

“… Oh, Princess, well, I was lost in thought. It’s quite a difficult matter.”

“Is there something even you cannot understand, Lord Jouslain?”

“There is nothing but things I do not understand.”

Where would he be, and what would he be doing at this time tomorrow? No, Jouslain could not even predict what would happen five minutes from now. He was alive now. He would likely be alive in five minutes, too. There was no evidence for it; he simply thought so.

Jouslain gazed countless times at Ariabert’s back, which stood so composed at the command seat, and each time, he felt a sensation akin to relief. As long as Ariabert remained well, Jouslain could avoid overthinking the meaning of life. He could simply focus on his duties and support Ariabert. That day was already drawing near. Though he would likely have to deal with some quite unpleasant matters…

A light impact struck the bridge. A gunboat<ref name="ftn44">“Gunboat” (小型砲艦) is pronounced “gunboat”.</ref> from Uraniborg had lost control and collided with the ''Austra''. While the larger vessel had sustained no apparent damage, the smaller one was not so fortunate.