Since the Eighty-Six were not considered human, having one pilot the machine would categorize it not as a mounted craft but as an unmanned drone.
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The Republic Militarized Autonomous Drone known as the Juggernaut, manufactured by Republic Military Industries (RMI), was lauded by the civilians upon its release as an innovative, cutting-edge, and humane weapon system that minimized human casualties to zero. The Eighty-Six who served as pilots were designated information-processing units—Processors—making the Juggernaut an Operated Drone.
The year 367 of the Republic calendar. Yet another day dawned when soldiers, who were treated as nothing more than mechanical parts, set out to suffer deaths that would not be counted as deaths, on a battlefield without casualties.
Confirming that the Legion’s red blips were retreating east—into the depths of their territory—Lena finally felt the tension begin to leave her body. In exchange for this retreat, her third squadron lost seven units. A bitter taste filled her mouth. Seven Juggernauts detonated, exploding along with the Processors who piloted them. None survived.
Juggernaut—the name the so-called intellectual developers gave to this machine, drawing on the name of a god from a foreign land’s mythos. Countless people would gather before this tank in search of salvation and would be run over by its wheels and crushed to death in its wake.
“…Handler One to Pleiades. We’ve confirmed the enemy forces’ retreat.”
She communicated this to Pleiades’s Processor—the Eighty-Six pilot who agreed to serve on the field of battle for five years in exchange for the restoration of his family’s civil rights—via Para-RAID.
Sensory Resonance allowed them to hear each other’s voices as well as the sounds of their surroundings. It was truly a groundbreaking means of communication that rendered radio transmissions (which were susceptible to interference by distance, weather conditions, and terrain—not to mention the electromagnetic jamming of the Eintagsfliege clouds) completely obsolete.
Theoretically, all five senses could be linked via Para-RAID, but typically, users chose to link only their sense of hearing. The amount of data shared by linking eyesight via Para-RAID was often overwhelming and could result in sensory overload, risking serious damage to the user. Hearing, on the other hand, gave one a solid grasp of the situation on the other side with minimal data. In terms of actual experience, it wasn’t much different from communication via radio or telephone, but there were comparatively fewer disturbances.
Lena believed those weren’t the only reasons. Refusing to link eyesight spared the Handler from having to see many things: the awe-inspiring sight of the enemy charging toward you, the sight of one’s comrades being ruthlessly blown to bits in every direction, the color of viscera and blood spilling from one’s own eviscerated body.
“The fourth squadron will take over lookout duties. Third squadron, please return to base.”
“Acknowledged, Pleiades… Hope you enjoyed watching us pigs squabble through your little telescope, Handler One.”
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The scathing irony that never left his voice from start to finish made Lena look at the floor. She knew they couldn’t help but hate her. She was an Alba—and one of their oppressors. And just like he said, keeping watch over them was part of her role as Handler.
“Good job today, Pleiades. And to all other units, too, and the seven who were lost… I’m so, so sorry.”
“…”
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A certain coldness, like that of a sword being drawn from its scabbard, mixed into the silence on the other side of the Resonance. The Para-RAID linked only their hearing, but since the Resonance was conducted via their consciousness, feelings that would normally come across only in face-to-face conversations were also transmitted.
“…Thank you for all the kind words you always offer us, Handler One.”