Muv-luv Alternative -Right Stuff- 作：レイテンシー
ツールにそれなりに料金を支払っていてもったいないので英語版も記載します。感想を書くのは英語でも構いませんが、翻訳ツール経由なのでたどたどしいと思います。
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This work follows the path of Japanese to English to Japanese using AI and translation tools as proofreading.
I paid a reasonable fee for the tools, which is a waste of money, so I will also include the English version. You can write your impressions in English, but they will probably be a bit sloppy since they are written via translation tools.
Episode 1: F-15 S/MTD - Assignment -
Date: --/--/2014
C-5 Galaxy, in the vicinity of United Nations Forces Yukon Base
Lieutenant Yuuya Bridges
Called to the cockpit by a pilot from the United Nations Air Force who happened to be in the same compartment. He said he wanted me to check something, just in case.
Although I'm not specialized in aircraft engines, as a military person, when asked to come, I go.
I didn't know why I was called, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. Maybe because I had chatted on the way, I ended up talking more than I thought, sharing stories about each other's lives.
This pilot, though lower in rank than me, worked as a technical officer and was often treated as such. Thanks to this, the otherwise strenuous travel in a military aircraft didn’t feel painful.
The C-5 Galaxy, configured for personnel transport with individual cabins with four seats, was still a military aircraft. The comfort level was worlds apart from the civilian planes arranged by the company, especially in terms of noise. Conversations had to be done at a proximity that would be questionable on land. Well, there were only two of us in this room, so it wasn’t a concern.
Trying not to ponder over the distorted values, I learned that the cabin was assigned only to officers, while soldiers and maintenance crew were sitting on wooden planks in the noisier rear part of the aircraft.
This pilot usually flew transport aircraft between the Yukon Base and U.S. military bases, and today, it seemed, he was on the passenger seet. Normally, a second lieutenant wouldn't get a private cabin, but he confessed he got in through connections to fill a vacant seat.
The fact that my travel arrangements were made for a solo journey made sense now, considering the teasing comments from the administration about not crying on the way.
Unnoticed by me until the base was nearing, the aircraft started taking a different route, which made the passenger realize something was amiss and head to the cockpit. That’s when I was summoned.
"A tactical fighter is on our route."
was the first thing I heard upon entering the cockpit, from the co-pilot pointing outside the window.
(Where is it...?)
Surprisingly, being a tactical machine pilot doesn’t require good vision. The visibility is mostly compensated by machinery, and tactical machines are not designed to be in open areas, as visibility isn't typically needed.
Pilots of aircraft have much better vision. Even when I looked where he was pointing, all I could see was a blurry expanse and couldn’t make out anything clearly.
I could vaguely see something white moving, which apparently was the tactical fighter.
The captain seemed to be talking on the radio.
"They’re calling for Lieutenant Yuuya Bridges from Yukon Base."
The captain handed me the headset.
It was all too convenient, but such things happen occasionally, and that's why military personnel value connections.
When I took the headset and identified myself as Yuuya Bridges, the person on the other side started talking unilaterally.
"What are they saying?"
The co-pilot, apparently listening to the same conversation, muttered that. Indeed, it didn’t seem like a coherent conversation to an outsider.
But I understood something. There was no time for explanations.
The content was what could be called conversation compression - just listing the essential points, assuming that I had the knowledge to decipher it.
The person talking to me was likely quick-witted. Summarizing a situation concisely and to the point is naturally expected but quite challenging.
However, that's what is demanded of military personnel, so we train for it. We anticipate situations in advance and limit the choices for summarization.
But this doesn’t apply to test pilots. The problems we encounter are always unknown, and we must summarize them concisely.
The person talking to me was a colleague.
Let's organize the content I was told.
- The person is the commander of the Argos Test Squadron.
The Argos Test Squadron at Yukon Base was where I will assigned. This means the person knows me. Not introducing themselves by rank or even name was a breach of manners, but it was indeed unnecessary information for solving the problem.
- The test machine is of the F-15E series.
The purpose of the Argos Test Squadron was testing tactical fighter. Naturally, it involved developmental machines. I was concerned about the term "series," but as it was F-15E, it fell within my area of expertise. Therefore, it was definitely about a question related to that.
- Status #FE1A
It was a status error of the tactical fighter. Managed by a four-digit hexadecimal number, the initial #FE indicated it was related to the jump unit.
Such things are not immediately apparent unless one is related to tactical fighter, specifically to the jump unit. But that alone made it clear that the person was targeting their question specifically to me.
The #1A error in the jump unit was serious. It meant the control modes of the left and right jump units didn't match, something not anticipated in the state of jumping.
In this condition, proper flight was impossible. However, the tactical machine in question was flying. How it controlled that, I didn't know.
A tactical machine that has gained momentum in the air can't land without killing that momentum. Otherwise, its legs would break. It's maintaining flight forcibly because it's not yet in a state to land.
- Reboot already attempted
They've tried what they could. How they managed to reboot the jump unit in the air was beyond me.
But the #1A error should disappear with a reboot. That it reoccurred meant it wasn't a random issue like memory corruption due to cosmic radiation.
The information was just this, and I was being asked what to do in this situation. I had no idea what changes were made from the mass-produced models. But there wasn't time to inquire about that.
The probable cause I surmised was the flight support function. The control mode in question pertains to what is called OBW (Operation By Wire), belonging to the category of application added-value features.
The control mode for the jump unit has undergone significant changes from the F-4 to the F-15. The F-4 had basic modes like 'boost' and 'stop', which were significantly expanded in the F-15 based on experienced pilots' operational data.
Included in these modes were those that alter the output between the left and right jump units. Such a feature is not an error in itself. However, an abnormal situation arises when the left and right jump units attempt different.
The cause of this anomaly was the breakdown of the assumption that the same control software should have been written to both the left and right jump units.
Tactical fighter are equipped with independent control units in various parts of their machine, each having its memory.
During the initial design phase of tactical fighter, there was a debate between centralized and decentralized control orientations. Decentralized control was chosen, considering the potential damage in combat.
With centralized control, damage to the body where the unit is located could potentially render the entire machine uncontrollable.
Although decentralized control also anticipates control loss due to damage, for example, the right arm's control unit becomes unnecessary if the right arm is lost.
The downside of decentralized control is the occurrence of mistakes like the current one, in addition to increased costs. However, due to frequent crashes of the early F-5 models with centralized control, decentralized control became standardized.
Interestingly, the #1A error indicating the loss of one of the jump units is deemed more serious than the error of a missing jump unit.
The severity of an error is determined by the potential troubles arising from the condition. Generally, a state capable of transitioning to a higher energy level is considered more dangerous.
To put it in a military context for clarity:
Imagine a soldier in a unit who is a bit unstable mentally.
Which is safer?
- Holding a gun but dead.
- Holding a gun but not following orders.
The former is safer. An error with a missing jump unit falls into the former category, while the #1A error falls into the latter.
"We should switch it to the shipping inspection mode."
I replied to the other party through the headset.
I should mention that although I've digressed, it hardly took any time to come up with that response. It might seem odd to someone involved with machinery, but human thought processes are concurrent, and the amount of thought doesn't always correspond to time.
"Can it be properly controlled in that mode?"
A response came immediately, perhaps a bit puzzled because my reply was beyond what was expected.
"If the pilot has experience flying the first generation tactical fighters, there shouldn't be any problem."
That's how I responded, ignoring the fact that it went against my personal feelings.
In the McDonnell Douglas Group, classifying tactical fighters by generation was prohibited. This was because Lockheed popularized such terminology during the adoption of the F-22.
The categorization itself is rather arbitrary. If it were up to me, I would separate the F-15 and F-16 into different generations, as their control concepts are fundamentally different. I'm not very familiar with naval aircraft.
I continued the conversation while internally criticizing Lockheed's audacity in spreading such a haphazard classification worldwide. Finally, a proper conversation ensued as the other party thanked me.
They seemed satisfied with the solution.
"You'll find how to switch modes in the blue volume 3."
I added this information.
Manuals for tactical fighters are all printed on paper and stored in King Files. Since each part of the aircraft might have subtly different versions, manuals are also slightly different for each aircraft.
There are more than thirty thick King Files, so it's customary to deliver the bookshelf containing the manuals along with the aircraft. They are roughly categorized by the color on the spine; jump units are in the blue files.
"I found it."
A female voice from the support team came through, slightly taken aback.
The volume of the manuals, especially for the F-15's jump units, is so vast that it's said no one knows them all. The first volume contains only the table of contents and is as thick as a dictionary.
I was prepared to provide the method if they couldn't find it, but if they could, following the manual would suffice.
So, here I will spill out the method for switching to the shipping inspection mode:
1. Write the transition number for the shipping inspection mode to the NVRAM via the diagnostic system.
2. Shut down the jump unit.
3. Wait for 10 minutes and then restart.
4. If it's neutral upon startup, the jump unit will read from the NVRAM and switch to the shipping inspection mode.
It's tough to wait 10 minutes in the air, so step 3 can be skipped.
The rule to wait 10 minutes after shutdown, a basic principle due to temperature considerations for jump unit restart, is exceptionally ignored for transitioning to the shipping inspection mode.
Why is that?
Let me explain the shipping inspection mode. As the name suggests, all jump units undergo inspection at the factory before shipping.
In this inspection, although the unit is mounted on a stand, it's actually fueled and ignited. The control mode used during this time is the shipping inspection mode.
The task is simply to rev up the engine and check if it produces the prescribed output. But it can't be done in the regular mode. The jump unit, being too clever for its own good, correctly identifies being mounted on a stand as abnormal and shuts down the engine.
I've heard it's a measure against reverse engineering. However, if that were the case, the transition number for the shipping inspection mode should be changed and kept secret at the time of mass production, but I haven't heard of such a practice.
Basically, the shipping inspection mode is set to prevent errors from occurring when the unit is correctly mounted on the stand with the right intent.
Why does this become a countermeasure for the current error?
During the shipping inspection, the unit doesn't transition to advanced control modes. The control modes for the left and right jump units should always match. In fact, there's no need to transition in this mode at all. However, this also involves some internal matters from the development side.
Technically, in the shipping inspection mode, only the errors that cause problems should be masked, keeping others as usual.
But the error monitoring for jump units involves complex conditions intertwined, leading to scenarios where blocking one issue triggers another.
Therefore, in the shipping inspection mode, all errors are blocked, only revving and stopping the engine. It's a mode that's used only during shipping anyway.
The main concern at the time of shipping is the hardware; it's assumed that the latest software will be written at the deployment site.
By the way, if someone maliciously tinkers with the mode, it's possible to falsify the unit's performance. But nobody does such bad things.
In this state, if one were to fly the unit, it would function like an early tactical fighter without advanced flight support features. That's why I answered that if one has experience flying an F-4 or F-5, they should be able to fly it. Not that I would want to do it myself.
The reason the shipping inspection mode is an exception to the 10-minute waiting rule for jump unit restart is a bit more complicated.
Waiting 10 minutes during shipping was deemed inefficient by the management, so it was improved. Apparently, this has somewhat increased production efficiency.
Whether the problem was resolved or not, there was no further communication from the other side. I returned the headset to the captain.
"It's flying properly now."
I was informed by a fellow passenger, but I still couldn't see it clearly.
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Date: --/--/2014
United Nation Forces Yukon Base
Lieutenant Yuuya Bridges
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"F-15E 'series'? Isn’t this an F-15 S/MTD!"
Upon landing at Yukon Base, I was struck by the sight of what appeared to be an F-15 S/MTD, a model likely to have been at the center of a recent maelstrom, now housed in a hangar.
Certainly, this aircraft could be considered 'series' to the F-15E. However, that's because the F-15 S/MTD was the developmental base for the F-15E, which kind of reverses the cause and effect.
Labeling the F-15 S/MTD as a variant of the F-15E was a bit of a stretch. The F-15 S/MTD itself was a modified version of the F-15C.
The F-15 S/MTD stood for F-15 Stratosphere/Mesosphere Tactical Descent, and it was humanity's first tactical fighter designed for orbital descent.
In the late 1980s, when NASA and the Army jointly developed an 'X' number that successfully completed an orbital descent, the idea of incorporating this into the hive strategy gained traction.
However, it was almost akin to a suicidal tactic. Although the United States was not enthusiastic, the overwhelming threat of the BETA sweeping across the Eurasian continent compelled a move towards developing a dedicated tactical fighter under external pressure.
The F-15 was chosen as the base model, given its relative ease of modification.
Interestingly, the challenge at the time was not hardware, but software.
For hive assaults involving orbital descent, the procedure involved a group of tactical fighters descending simultaneously from orbit towards the main shaft of the hive. The complexity of this operation was likened to making multiple balls achieve a hole-in-one simultaneously.
The most expensive component of a tactical fighter specialized for orbital descent, aside from humans, was the computer. With the incredibly high ground speed during descent, the temporal resolution needed to be incredibly high.
Remote control (telemetry) was considered but dismissed as not robust enough to handle the congestion of numerous aircraft in the same airspace.
The silhouette-altering additional equipment on the machine was initially considered disposable. However, it turned out to be too expensive not to reuse, resulting in quite costly aircraft.
What made this model unusual was that despite over a hundred units being produced, nearly all were lost. I heard that only two, used as test units, remained.
My superior often lamented that failing to preserve an F-15 S/MTD for a museum was a disgrace to the American industrial sector. The aircraft deserved the honor of being a photo spot at the entrance.
Due to the excessive cost of the specialized units, the successor models were required to be capable of orbital descent with just attachments and specialized software installation.
"Now it’s the F-15 ACTV, Lieutenant Bridges."
After some time admiring the aircraft, I was approached from behind. It seemed the person had been there all along.
I felt embarrassed for marveling at the F-15 S/MTD like a child, but it couldn't be helped. The F-15E I worked on at McDonnell Douglas was developed based on this model, enhancing integrated performance by omitting luxurious additional equipment.
It was, in a way, the ancestor of my beloved aircraft. No, it's the F-15 ACTV now.
The person who approached me was my contact during a previous incident, Lieutenant Ibrahim Dour of the United Nations General Army. I heard later he narrowly missed being promoted to captain, in this case.
I value people who respect me even though they know me as a technical officer. Lieutenant Ibrahim was one such person.
"Welcome to Yukon Base," he said, followed by casual conversation.
"This is the stronghold of Alternative 2. Do you know which Alternative the UN is currently prioritizing?"
Probably Alternative 5. I heard about massive investments in constructing something at the Lagrange points. Even the U.S. military's primary theory on G-bombs somehow falls under Alternative 5, indicating humanity’s current collective effort is to escape the BETA.
While building marine cities around Hawaii under the same Alternative 5 seems more logical, my experience as a specialist taught me not to interfere in other experts' fields. They must have their reasons.
"My job is to create machines capable of fighting for humanity, not to make machines for running away."
As Ibrahim was the senior officer in the Argos Test Squadron, I spoke with due respect.
He nodded in satisfaction, apparently that was the response he wanted.
I was introduced to the pilot of that machine. Surprised, I realized the pilot was a remarkably young and skilled tactical officer.
"You’re the one who suggested that method, huh? I had to restart in mid-air multiple times!"
The childlike figure lashed out suddenly.
I had advised switching to shipping inspection mode,
but it seemed it wasn't a smooth transition.
It was probably step 4, maintaining neutral control during startup, that caused the trouble. With indirect thought control involved, achieving absolute neutrality is exceedingly difficult.
I believe an error occurs if neutrality isn't maintained within a 0.5Nm unit. Frankly, it was impressive that it was accomplished at all.
"Stop it, 2nd Lt. Manandal," Lieutenant Ibrahim intervened. I was honestly surprised this child was a 2nd lieutenant. They appeared to be of Southeast Asian descent.
I knew developing countries exposed to the BETA threat were running low on personnel, but it seemed to be true.
"If I had known the machine was an F-15 S/MTD, I would have thought more carefully."
"What did you say?!" the 2nd lieutenant tried to attack despite the restraint. I must have been visible as a 1st lieutenant.
"2nd Lt, remember your discipline. He's a superior officer. And Lieutenant Bridges, don’t provoke."
Lieutenant Ibrahim warned. It was uncommon for a 2nd lieutenant to confront a superior officer like this. Technical officers, especially those in rear positions, often get undervalued. Still, being treated like a virgin for lacking combat experience was something I could do without.
Being confronted over technical issues with the machine was a frequent occurrence. But even those coming from the front lines, test pilots should understand the responsibility involved in machine development.
Yes, this child, perhaps a girl, was from the front lines. Otherwise, she couldn’t have piloted a tactical fighter so adeptly.
I kept thinking about how the jump unit was restarted in mid-air, likely using solid fuel boosters.
Unlike the main engine, solid fuel boosters only need ignition. They should be boostable even without power.
Yet, their responsiveness was far inferior to the main engine. Controlling them properly seemed unlikely, especially while maintaining neutral control in that situation. It was an incredible feat of skill.
She was taken away by other tactical officers, restrained.
"Lieutenant Bridges, as you can see, countries other than your homeland don’t have the luxury to allocate personnel for development teams."
Lieutenant Ibrahim declared that there was no one here who could be targeted as an engineer.
That's right, there's a lack of personnel to assign skilled tactical officers to development. In development teams, piloting skills don't matter much; it's all about quick thinking and developmental experience.
Reassigning strong tactical officers to development was a significant loss for humanity. They should have been on the front lines.
It was a cruel judgment, I knew. Forcing them to fight until death seemed inhumane.
On the battlefield, frontline soldiers decide who should be relegated to the rear. It could be a reward for their performance or a strategic reassignment for organizational management.
But, for some reason, they always send those who excelled at the front lines to development teams for a break. The development team isn't a resort; in fact, it's quite the opposite.
The reason always includes the anticipation that combat experience will be useful in development, but I have never seen that happen.
There is an approach to software development in which engineers actually experience the target work. However, the reverse is not true. You don't put people who have been working on a software development team with no experience just because they have work experience.
Things that would never happen in software development were rampant in the development process for tactical aircraft.
Good piloting skills and the logical thinking required for development don't necessarily go hand in hand, leading to many tactical officers struggling in development.
It’s mentally taxing to label a tactical officer, who might have been excellent on the front lines, as incompetent in development.
In the United States, improvements have been made little by little, such as when tactical officers pulled from the front lines are transferred to the rear and assigned to instructional units, and the situation is no longer as bad as it was at one time.
However, this UN-led development project seemed to still be in that situation.
"The cause of the error seems to be a writing error in the control software."
Lieutenant Ibrahim told me. I could have asked him to move to the building, but he seemed like he would continue talking here.
I still wanted to look at the F-15 S/MTD. Or is it now the F-15 ACTV?
I agreed with Lieutenant Ibrahim’s explanation. The first thing to suspect in a #1A error is exactly that.
Sometimes, a fundamental mistake occurs when the software writing itself is completely forgotten, but such errors are usually detected during pre-check diagnostics.
Therefore, the most likely possibility was that the writing of the control software started but failed midway.
The complication with a writing failure is that the memory where the control software is written already contains the previous software. The new software overwrites it.
If the writing fails midway, the memory's beginning has the new software, but the latter part still contains the old software, creating a kind of chimera.
If the software versions are significantly different, it becomes a mess, and errors are detected quickly. However, in development units, it's more common to add or modify only parts of the software.
And if the changed part is somewhere in the latter half of the memory, even though the change must have been made and the software version has changed, when you run it, the changed part that was supposed to be there is not there. Problems like this occur.
In this case, something like this happened with one of the jump units on either side. As a result, the control modes of the left and right jump units mismatched, causing a #1A error. That was the plausible scenario.
The reason we didn't notice it until the actual jump can only be speculated. Problems with the piloting support function are often difficult to replicate on the ground. The error probably didn't occur until we entered that mode.
Software writing errors actually happen quite frequently. However, the writing software is supposed to alert us in case of failure.
This means the maintenance crew must have overlooked this notification. By now, they must be searching for the culprit.
I personally think such a search is pointless. I once intervened when a maintenance worker at our company was harshly punished for a mistake.
However, I was coldly told to not meddle in the maintenance crew's affairs. Indeed, it was foolish of me to interfere with experts.
The root of this problem probably lies in the fact that each maintenance worker doesn't have their own monitor. They are only equipped with a slightly luxurious version of an ammeter with a small window.
If you make a writing mistake and miss the notification that appears there, it's all over. And in the maintenance team's world, if you were to stare intently at the diagnostic machine while writing software, you would get hit from behind. It's too harsh.
On a side note, I've always enjoyed intently watching the progress of machinery.
At my company, compared to the maintenance crew's diagnostic tool, we use a much more sophisticated personal terminal. Opening the integrated design file of the F-15E took an unbelievably long time.
However, the progress bar was meticulously detailed, slowly and surely filling up. I loved watching it fill and often found myself staring at it.
Once, a colleague asked me what I was doing, and when I said I was cheering it on, I ended up being labeled as the odd one out at the company.
I wondered why I was so fascinated by machines working hard and realized it was influenced by my grandfather.
Due to my mother being unilaterally abandoned by a Japanese man, my relationship with my grandfather was terrible. But he was sincere towards tools, even if not towards his grandson.
He never tolerated taking out emotions on tools, no matter how emotional he became.
My first proper communication with my grandfather was when he fixed some wheel for me. After what I assume was oiling, it spun incredibly smoothly with the slightest force. I was overjoyed by it.
Communication with my grandfather always involved tools. He never gave a proper response to anything else, but he always taught me how to use and maintain tools if I asked.
In other words, I found a strange coincidence between the movement of the progress bar when opening a file and the wheel that kept turning. So I don't like it when my progress suddenly stops or jumps.
But when you're on the creation side, constantly showing progress is nothing but a burden.
As expected, after the software that opens the integrated design files was updated, the detailed progress display was replaced with just ten squares. I remember being quite disappointed.
However, the personal terminal was also renewed, and I no longer felt stressed about opening files, so I eventually forgot about it.
Now, back to the maintenance crew. The question of how to improve their situation is something the Army is already working on.
For the next main tactical fighter, the F-35, an Integrated Maintenance Improvement Plan was proposed.
This plan involved equipping each maintenance worker with the same retinal projection device as tactical officers. The idea was to overlay maintenance information directly over the aircraft being worked on.
It was a bit too ambitious. It's okay to take a little longer.
As expected, with the F-35's development turmoil, the conversation has almost fizzled out. They seem to have fallen into the predictable pitfall of creating the overlay maintenance information.
It seems like it will be a while before the environment for maintenance workers improves.
So, returning to the issue of software writing errors, are there no measures other than just asking the maintenance crew to be more careful?
Of course, there are.
Firstly, a simple solution would be to write the software twice, but with the first write filling the memory with zeros.
Writing errors occur because the previous software remains in memory. Resetting it to zero before writing means that if the write fails midway, the software won't function properly, and the error will be noticeable.
However, this approach has problems and is rarely adopted. It's tedious, as writing software takes considerable time. And most importantly, it halves the lifespan of the memory.
So, there's a more technical method: writing the software's CRC at the beginning of the memory.
CRC is essentially the remainder when considering the software as a giant binary number and dividing it by a certain value. Thus, even a small change in the software significantly alters the CRC.
Upon booting, the software's CRC is checked, and if it doesn't match the CRC written in memory, it prevents the startup as an error. This setup is standard in mass-produced version software. So, in reality, tactical fighters wouldn't operate with writing errors on the front lines.
So why did the problem occur this time? In the development version of the software, this CRC check function is disabled.
The reason is that in the development units, besides checking if the tactical fighter operates correctly, an important task is parameter adjustment.
This involves actual tactical officers deciding what's good or bad about added functions – too slow, too fast, a bit stiffer here, softer there. Although I negated the value of combat experience in development units earlier, it's vital here.
The criterion is how it can be useful in actual combat. But fundamentally, it requires talent as an engineer. Without a deep understanding of the minute movements – that this behavior is due to these parameters – it's impossible to make adjustments.
So, parameter adjustments are handled by superhuman individuals who are seasoned tactical officers and brilliant engineers.
And since returning to the dock for every parameter change is too cumbersome, the system is set up to make changes onboard using a specialized terminal brought into the tactical fighter.
Changing this parameter is extremely incompatible with CRC checking. Changing a parameter, being part of the software, alters the CRC value. That's why the CRC check function is disabled in the development version.
The problems that would occur during the development stage were already factored in. In other words, it all depends on the caution of the maintenance crew.
I suddenly wonder what we'll do if the Argos development unit doesn't have a superhuman capable of parameter adjustments. At my company, we always have such personnel in reserve. Even if they belong to a different department, they'd come if asked.
Maybe I'll have to do a two-seater, asking, "How was it this time?" while making adjustments. Fortunately, it seems there are plenty of tactical officers with rich combat experience.
A tactical fighter's cockpit can surprisingly fit two people if squeezed. It's uncomfortable for long periods, but it should work out somehow.
"What are your impressions of the tactical fighters at our base?"
Lieutenant Ibrahim asked me. Had I been staring at the F-15 S/MTD that much?
"It was, how should I say, inspiring, like seeing a finely honed blade."
Truly the blade of humanity.
"Not that one, the yellow one next to it."
Right, I had been curious about it. Next to it was a Japanese Type-10. I had heard it was colorful, but my first impression was of an unexplored tribe adorned with incredibly flashy decorations.
"I thought it was flashier than I had imagined."
"Indeed," he agreed.
"Unfortunately, your primary involvement will be with the tactical fighters of the Japanese Empire."
It seemed to be a sibling of that Type-10, he added. I knew that.
I was sent here because, unsolicited, I had researched Japanese Imperial tactical fighters.
Let's talk about the Japanese Imperial tactical fighters later. It's about time we headed to the barracks.
Despite the hectic first day, starting with trouble was quite fitting for a development unit. Anyway, it's time to start my job.
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July 26, 1992
UN Space Army, 1st Orbital Descent Corps
F-15 S/MTD
Lieutenant Jake Harrison
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When I first heard about adding opening and closing functions to the re-entry shell in orbit, I thought it was a foolish thing. There was no need to add such a function to a coffin.
But, if it was to show this, it didn't seem so foolish anymore.
"See that, a spectacular view, right?"
"Yes," came the reply from my communication partner, who was descending on the same re-entry destroyer, was tepid.
The view through the tactical fighter's camera showed the Earth, blue and vast, with several lights shining like the identification lights of re-entry destroyers.
Although the ships were too far apart to be seen visually, we were all about to descend to the same place.
Everyone who participated believed they were most deserving of the honor of being the first man to dive deep into the Hive. Many men, mainly from the Marine Corps, had volunteered.
"Did you hear, Jake, before the sortie, the Japanese re-entry destroyer changed its ship name?"
I remembered something was going on before the sortie.
"I asked Tanaka, as it was in Japanese, it's called Kamikaze."
I burst out laughing unintentionally. It was a clear act of retaliation.
At the pre-sortie ceremony, a foolish naval officer mentioned kamikaze, saying it was not a kamikaze attack. I remember the face of the Japanese officer cringing at that moment.
So, they decided to let the destroyer Kamikaze participate in the first descent of the 1st Orbital Descent Corps. It was too amusing.
"Not retaliating on the spot is insidious, but getting things done is extremely satisfying."
I responded cheerfully.
One needs to be prepared to get punched when stepping on someone's sensitive spot. And indeed, they ware punched.
The navy was up to something strange in this operation too.
It's okay to involve special teams, but the sponsor is Alternative 3. There were rumors that they were going to sign surrender documents. It seemed serious and suspicious, even involving Russians.
Not only between nations but even within the United States Army, there was mistrust in front of a common enemy, BETA.
But that was good for humanity.
Humanity progresses by competing. If you just want to compete in a 100m race for time, you can run alone. You run alongside others to improve your time.
There's no reason for humanity to lose to a disgusting industrial machine that doesn't even shoot its own kind.
The heat generated by the re-entry destroyer's crushing of the atmosphere was beginning to appear as color.
---
The 1st Orbital Descent Corps, deployed in Operation Swaraj, achieved a record for reaching the deepest part of the Hive and all units lost contact.