...I'm impressed with myself, I actually wrote it all, the Rear Admiral in command of the cobbled-together Imperial patrol fleet thought, stroking his meticulously groomed mustache.

“It’s only fitting that Banfield’s country bumpkins clear the way for us,” he said, a smug look on his face as he surveyed the scene unfolding on the monitor. Beside him stood a strikingly beautiful woman, his secretary, who had clearly achieved her position through her looks. She served as his support, both professionally and personally.

“Indeed, sir,” she agreed. “Though, the Banfields seem to be investing quite heavily in their military.”

Her comment soured the Rear Admiral's mood. “Hmph! Typical of the Banfields, flaunting their military might, built on nothing but a flimsy reputation. Still, it’s useful in situations like this. We’re just a hastily assembled force of patrol fleets, stuck with outdated equipment.” He was well aware that the Banfield fleet was better equipped. While this bothered him, it also made them a convenient shield to put on the front lines.

The secretary’s smile turned sharp. “You’re going to use them to soften up the enemy and then present their weakened forces as a gift to Prince Calvin, aren't you, sir? After all, your family is part of Crown Prince Calvin’s faction.”

The mention of factional disputes brought a vulgar grin to the Rear Admiral’s face. “Everything is for the Crown Prince's victory. The outcome of this war is insignificant compared to the succession struggle. Whether Prince Cleo wins or loses is of no consequence to me. In fact, weakening the Banfields while minimizing our own losses is far more valuable.”

The truth was, despite being part of the same Imperial army, they were actively undermining each other. The root of the problem lay in the succession dispute on the Imperial capital planet, where Crown Prince Calvin and Third Prince Cleo were vying for the throne. For the nobles, the war against the United Kingdom of Oxis was merely an extension of this power struggle. The Rear Admiral despised the Banfields for supporting Cleo and had deliberately chosen the raiding fleet as expendable pawns in this fortress assault.

“A brilliant strategy, sir,” the secretary praised, clapping her hands.

“Thank you, my dear secretary,” the Rear Admiral acknowledged. “However, we do need to retake this particular fortress. It was originally held by nobles of the Calvin faction. Leaving it in enemy hands would reflect poorly on us.” The loss of the fortress was a significant blow to the Calvin faction's prestige. Failure to reclaim it would make them vulnerable to attacks from the Cleo faction. This was the true reason behind their insistence on retaking the fortress.

“You'll surely recapture it, sir, and inflict heavy losses on the Banfields,” the secretary flattered him. Her effusive praise made the Rear Admiral slightly suspicious.

“You’re unusually complimentary today,” he noted.

The secretary, dropping her professional facade, confided, “Well, a certain junior colleague I dislike recently transferred to the Banfield family. She keeps boasting about her wonderful life, so I’d be personally delighted to see her suffer a setback.”

“Oh, a junior colleague?”

“A competent and irritating little thing,” the secretary said with a sweet smile. The Rear Admiral burst into laughter.

“So it’s a rivalry between women. No wonder you're so enthusiastic,” he chuckled.

As they continued their conversation, a nearby adjutant addressed the Rear Admiral. “Sir, it’s almost time to commence the operation.”

“Indeed,” the Rear Admiral replied. “By the way, our trump card is ready, correct?”

The adjutant gave a small nod. “The company of Mobile Knights equipped with the latest models, all piloted by Knights, is ready to deploy at any time.”

“Excellent. Our ace in the hole. We'll deploy them once the Banfield fleet is sufficiently weakened and retake the fortress. Now then…let’s see what the famed Banfield forces are truly capable of.”

As the appointed time arrived, the fleet began to advance. The raiding fleet entered the fortress’s range and came under attack. The Rear Admiral watched, stroking his chin.

“Go on, go on, give it your all, Banfields,” he said with a sneer. “Soften up the fortress for us before you’re all wiped out.” He was enjoying the spectacle when an operator on the bridge called out in a panicked voice, “S-Sir!”

“What is it?”

“Friendly Mobile Knights are rapidly approaching the fortress!”

“What?!”

Immediately after the operation commenced, Allison took command on the Melea’s bridge, replacing Tim. The ship shuddered under the fortress’s bombardment, but its defensive field held.

“Get us within Mobile Knight deployment range, no matter what!” Allison yelled at the bridge crew. “Gunners, focus fire on the enemy fortress's defense installations!”

Her orders were met with a disgruntled response from the gunner over the comms. “Are you kidding?! We’re out of effective range!”

“Theoretically, you are in range,” Allison retorted. “Stop making excuses and fire!”

“Fine!” the gunner grumbled, reluctantly complying.

Tim watched Allison, recognizing her lack of practical experience. She’s all theory and no practice, he thought. I bet she’s never even commanded a ship in combat before. His hunch was correct. It was impossible for the Melea to execute a perfect counterattack under such heavy fire. While Allison knew the Melea’s capabilities, she had misjudged how they would hold up in a real battle. I don’t want to die here with my great-granddaughter, he thought grimly, adjusting his cap.

“Divert all power to the defensive field,” he ordered. “And prepare the Mobile Knights for launch.” As soon as Tim took charge, the bridge crew obeyed without question.

“Defensive field at maximum output!” one operator reported. The increased output stabilized the Melea, lessening the tremors.

“Mobile Knight units ready for launch!” another announced.

“Launching the Mobile Knights now is suicide!” Allison shrieked. “They’ll be shot down before they even get close! Just follow my ins—”

Tim cut her off with a sharp glare. Despite his age, the veteran commander’s gaze was enough to make Allison flinch.

“Quiet, Supervisor,” he said firmly. “This has a much higher chance of success. And don’t underestimate our pilots. The troublesome Knight who got us this far won’t be shot down so easily.”

“What makes you so—?” Allison began, but an operator interrupted.

“Atalante, launching!”

The Melea’s movements are back to normal? Emma, who had been worried about the ship's erratic behavior inside her cockpit, felt a wave of relief. Molly’s voice came over the comms.

“Emma, you’re clear to launch.”

“Finally,” Emma replied. “I thought we’d launch sooner.” Gripping the controls, she issued orders to her squadron. “Launch authorized. Atalante will lead the way. Follow me.”

The squadron responded with a chorus of “Roger,” except for two.

“Captain,” Ain’s voice cut through, “as I said before, the Varona team will be doing things our own way.”

“I’m gonna do my own thing too,” Rick added.

Emma sighed inwardly. She’d learned to expect nothing less from these two mavericks.

“Fine,” she conceded. “But I’m going first. You two can follow at your own pace.”

The Atalante’s restraints disengaged, and the launch arm carried it out of the hangar, followed by Larry and Doug's Raccoons.

“Melea, adjust the defensive field,” Emma requested.

“We’ll open a hole in the field for you. You’re clear to go,” the bridge operator replied.

“Roger. Atalante, launching!”

The Atalante’s twin boosters ignited, propelling it forward with increasing force. The launch arm released its grip, and the Mobile Knight shot out of the Melea. Emma felt the G-force press against her, but she held firm.

As soon as the Atalante emerged, the fortress's defense systems targeted it. Emma selected her multi-purpose rifle and began firing on the move. The long-barreled rifle was unwieldy but versatile, capable of firing both physical rounds and energy beams. It was a custom weapon designed specifically for the Atalante. Even though they were far out of effective range, “There!” she muttered, firing a shot. A few seconds later, one of the targeting systems exploded.

Emma pushed the Atalante through a series of daring maneuvers, dodging incoming fire while systematically dismantling the fortress’s defenses. As she took out the systems targeting them, a path began to clear through the barrage of fire directed at the Melea. Turrets on the fortress’s surface exploded one after another. The enemy, finally reacting, launched their own Mobile Knights. They were armed with energy rifles powered directly by the fortress and immediately targeted the approaching Atalante. But perhaps panicked by the rapid destruction of their defenses, their deployment was sluggish. Emma quickly assessed their skill from their movements. They’re not Knights…then! She continued to fire from outside their effective range, picking off the enemy mechs one by one.

The Atalante rapidly closed the distance, reaching effective range with its multi-purpose rifle. Weaving and dodging, Emma located and destroyed hidden turrets and emplacements. When the rifle's magazine ran dry, she switched weapons, mounting it on the Atalante's back. "I’ve bought us enough time," she muttered. "Now for…" She equipped assault rifles on both arms, a physical round version with a large magazine in her right hand, and a beam assault rifle in her left, giving her the option of both physical and energy attacks. The fortress concentrated its fire on the Atalante, but Emma, with her preternatural reflexes, evaded every attack. The Atalante’s responsiveness had overwhelmed many test pilots, but for Emma, it was a perfect match.

Finally, she reached the fortress, reorienting the Atalante and firing its boosters in reverse to decelerate.

“Atalante, first to arrive!” she announced. “Melea, I’ve reached the fortress!” Unable to fully arrest her momentum, she landed on the surface with a controlled slide, simultaneously unleashing a barrage of fire from her assault rifles. She took out another Mobile Knight that emerged from cover. After clearing the immediate area, she discarded the assault rifles. Her signature dual pistols appeared in her hands.

A moment later, a series of explosions rocked the fortress around her. Missiles rained down, obliterating hidden Mobile Knights and newly revealed turrets.

“Looks like I finally get my turn,” Doug’s voice crackled over the comms. His Raccoon landed heavily on the fortress, a massive gatling gun in one hand and a large shield in the other. Larry’s Raccoon followed, landing precariously with a small, armored transport in tow. The ground troops inside the transport, part of the Special Ground Combat Unit, called out to Larry jokingly,

“You gotta be smoother than that if you want to impress anyone, kid.”

“I’ll buy you a juice box for getting us here in one piece, squirt.”

“Be careful with the landings, junior.”

Inside his cockpit, Larry fumed. “I risk my life to protect you guys, and that’s the thanks I get?! Just hurry up and take the fortress already!”

The special forces troops disembarked and began their assault on the fortress interior. More Raccoons arrived, landing on the surface one after another. Emma counted them, relieved to see that everyone had made it. Her voice turned serious as she issued her next command.

"We'll secure the area for the ground troops and continue disrupting the fortress's defense systems. Enemy Mobile Knights are still active, so stay alert."