“Wake up, No. 2.”
No. 2 sat up as No. 16 poked at her. How weird for me to be sleeping on my stomach, she thought. And it was rare for No. 16 to come wake her up.
“Good morning … Ah!”
The moment she realized she wasn’t in her own room, she recalled that she was on a mission.
Apparently she had lost consciousness from the missile impact. She was probably slammed down into the ground, hence her awkward position on her stomach. That said, all her senses were intact and she wasn’t experiencing any mobility issues. Thinking back to the probable size of the EMP, the magnetic field–resistant skins must have been even more effective than as in the field tests. Passing out was a result of her own neglect …
“Don’t be such an airhead.”
No. 2 was about to apologize, but quickly stopped herself. What they needed right now were not words of apology. She quickly scanned the surroundings. No. 4 was next to No. 16, and No. 21 was behind them. No other comrades in sight. Of course, that included their captain No. 1.
“Si-situational analysis, please.”
“Yes,” said No. 21 as she positioned herself before No. 2.
“Attackers No. 2 and No. 4, intact. Gunner No. 16 intact. Scanner No. 21, myself, intact. The four models above have successfully infiltrated enemy territory. With the loss of No. 1, the captain, all responsibilities of the captain have been delegated to No. 2. “
There was no new information in No. 21’s report, even though she had specialized skills in data collection and research. Put simply, they were in the worst possible scenario she could’ve imagined, and pretty much helpless.
“That’s all, captain.”
They clearly wanted a response, but all No. 2 could do was grimly nod at the news. No. 16 blew up in rage.
“Stop dillydallying No. 2! You’re the captain, you know?”
“I know but …” No. 2 was clearly at a loss. She must have been wearing an extremely worried expression, because No. 4 gently placed a hand on No. 2’s shoulder.
“It’s not like we’re in immediate danger.”
Her hand was warm. No. 2 realized that she felt at home whenever No. 4 was there not only because they were alike, but because No. 4 was caring. In contrast to No. 4, No. 16 had no mercy.
“What are you talking about, didn’t you see No. 1 die?”
No. 2 felt her chest tighten. No. 1, who had always been there, was gone.
“Get your act together!”
She knew what No. 16 was trying to say. After all, what they needed now was a strong leader.
“What should I do … I can’t be a captain.”
She couldn’t. Why me, she thought. Why did she survive, and not No. 1?
“No. 2. If that’s the case executing the mission is impossible. We should tell Command to abort.”
“Oh! Yes! I think that’s a good idea!”
It was just like No. 21 had said. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Her thoughtlessness was shameful.
Of the sixteen androids deployed, twelve had been destroyed. The projected acceptable number of losses for this mission was four. Nothing was going to plan. Even in terms of troops remaining, continuing was impossible—regardless of whether she was capable or not.
“Then I’ll initiate a transmission to Command. There is jamming, but the laser transmission is back up and running.”
No. 21 opened the transmission interface.
“Report to Command. Please copy.”
Though heavily muffled, they could hear Futaba’s voice reply, “This is Command, over.”
“Command, under these conditions continuation of the mission is impossible. Out of the sixteen of us, only four are still functional. I’ll repeat. We request the abortion of this mission.”
“This is Command to the YoRHa squadron. We prohibit the abortion of the mission.”
“What?”
She thought she misheard the transmission because of the static.
“We order the continuation of the mission with minimum personnel.”
She hadn’t misheard. They looked at each other.
“But that’s …”
She couldn’t think of what to say. They had lost more than two-thirds of their squadron. Did Command understand what situation they were in? There was probably some kind of miscommunication.
“This is an order.”
With that, their processing circuits instinctively stopped. This was the end. Even if it was some kind of miscommunication or misunderstanding, there was no going against Command’s orders.
“This will conclude all communication through laser transmissions.”
Following Yotsuba’s words all the static disappeared, and silence ensued.
After a pause, No. 21 said, “We’ve been cut off.”
“I can’t believe it!”
No. 4 tilted her head back in exasperation.
“We have four units. They’re telling us to continue with four units?”
“I don’t think it’s feasible.”
No. 21 replied indifferently. On the other hand, No. 16 made her anger apparent.
“Shit! We lost twelve!”
No. 16 snatched her goggles off in fury. No. 4 pointed at them.
“Hey, taking them off is against military regulations, you know?”
“Look who’s talking!”
At first glance, it looked like the YoRHa squadron had black blindfolds wrapped around their heads. But these were not just black pieces of cloth, but actual goggles with heads-up displays about the targets the user was looking at.
So while it was a crucial piece of equipment on the battlefield, at times it was constricting and stifling. No. 4 was intentionally wearing her goggles crooked so she could keep one eye uncovered. No. 16 lashing back at her was well warranted. No. 4 would probably say that the goggles had slipped off or something of the sort, but in reality No. 2 thought she did it because they were annoying to wear.
Anyway, the relatively tame argument between No. 4 and No. 16 about their goggles didn’t last long.
“Wait,” interrupted No. 21.
“Machine heat signals detected. The number is—no?!”
“No. 21? What happened?”
After No. 2 urged her on, No. 21 inhaled sharply and continued.
“The number of heat signatures detected is approximately 128,000 units.”
Everyone froze. They had never even fought that many during training. Because …
“That’s more than eight times the size of the predicted enemy force.”
No. 2’s goggles started to pick up the heat signatures too, which were calibrated for close combat. It really was an unbelievably huge force.
“We got to do what we got to do!”
No. 16 readied her assault rifle. “Right …” No. 4 mumbled. No. 2 pulled out her military sword, thinking that No. 1 would have said a few words right then to spur the squadron.