Fated to Die to the Player, I'll Live Freely with My SSS-Class Ship!
Chapter 164 164: On the Edge of Treachery

{Wonderful!}

As soon as I got in touch with the man from before—who turned out to be a three-star general—he welcomed us with open arms and a voice full of relief.

{It's good that your delivery wrapped up quickly.} He sighed.

{To be honest, our army's currently being pushed back. While we can still hold the lines, every passing moment demands sacrifices. Lives are being lost by the second.}

They were so close to the edge that he didn't even bother hiding their situation from me, a recent addition under his command.

"What should we do now, General?" I asked, urging him to stop wasting precious time. "Should we proceed directly to the frontlines?"

{...At the moment, the front lines are in a fragile equilibrium. I'd rather not upset that balance by introducing new elements.}

He explained with a shake of his head, but his tone betrayed him. It was clearly just an excuse. He was unwilling to head into the thick of the battle where danger was guaranteed. A textbook example of self-preservation.

"Then..."

{We'll be assigning your fleet to escort ours. A new directive just came in—orders to strengthen the defenses of Planet A1-03. So that will be our destination.}

"...!"

I was taken aback by the incredible stroke of luck, nearly jumping in celebration. But I kept a straight face, working hard to mask the excitement bubbling inside.

"I see..." I replied with a nod. "Then please transmit the coordinates. We'll warp there immediately."

{Understood. We'll be waiting for you on the other end.}

The general ended the transmission right after, and within moments, a fresh data packet came through—just a single coordinate. It marked a section in the 1st star cluster, positioned closer to us than A1-03 itself.

"So we'll need to pick them up first," I muttered with a sigh—but quickly shook off the feeling and forced a grin. "No, this is a godsend. We get to reach A1-03 by simply escorting one fleet. Eva?"

I turned to my right, to where Eva's station was situated.

"I'm on it," she said before I could even issue the command.

Well, what I was going to ask her was obvious anyway. She had to initiate the warp for the entire fleet. Even though only our flagship was equipped with a warp drive, the portal it created wasn't exclusive.

As long as the portal stayed active, allied ships in the fleet could pass through it freely.

However, keeping the gate open consumed an enormous amount of energy—so typically, it was only active briefly, just long enough for one ship to transition.

Eva adjusted the warp settings, enlarging the portal's aperture and increasing the duration. Once she was satisfied with the variables, she tapped a final key to initialize the jump.

"Warp Drives active. Connection established to the designated coordinates. Opening the gateway now...!"

Just as she said, a massive portal began materializing before us. Although singular, it was large enough to accommodate dozens of Leviathans at once.

"Alright, everyone! Single file!" I shouted, pointing forward. "Advance!"

But Nyssra raised her hand shyly. "Ah… The comms are down at the moment. Should I reestablish connection to the fleet?"

"...No need. That was just for dramatic effect."

I'll keep the embarrassment to myself, silently lamenting the fact that no one even heard me just now...

Eva, working through the navigation interface, expertly aligned the formation of all our ships. A smooth, orderly stream of vessels surged through the warp gate. In less than 30 seconds, the entirety of our fleet had arrived on the other side—where another group of ships was already stationed, waiting.

Without hesitation, I hailed them immediately.

"Greetings, General Sam! We, the mercenary troupe Rolling Clowns, have arrived in response to your summons!"

{Oh, that was fast!} the general replied, pleasantly surprised.

"Yes! Then, shall we warp straight to A1-03 right now?"

The destination was still within direct warp range. As long as we had the proper coordinates, we could make the jump without any issues.

{That's... unfortunately not possible. Apologies.}

The general sounded regretful.

{During the earlier skirmish, our thrusters were severely damaged—along with several other critical systems. At present, our flagship is incapable of initiating warp travel.}

"Huh?"

That made no sense. Warp travel shouldn't be impacted by a damaged thruster. At most, if the portal were unstable, the ship might shake a little—but that's about it.

I didn't need to overanalyze it. The lie was obvious.

'Does he not want to arrive in time to help defend A1-03? Is he aligned with the Elders?'

Whatever the real reason, one thing was clear: this general had no intention of reaching A1-03 quickly.

"How about your jump drives?" I asked, just to confirm my suspicion.

As expected, the General shook his head, the motion slow and weary.

{Unfortunately, those are out of commission too. They've been damaged. Right now, we can't go any faster than cruise speed. That's why we needed escorts like you.}

I offered a polite smile toward his apologetic tone—though with him being a Voltherian, it was difficult to gauge his true expression.

Anyway, to summarize: their jump drives, along with some other vital systems, were damaged. As a result, they were stuck in place, only capable of moving at cruise speed. But at that pace, it would take weeks just to reach our destination—Planet A1-03.

At this rate, Plan B would be a thousand times more efficient and faster.

"Alright, General. I've reported the situation to the relay," I said with a grin, trying my best to sound casual and composed.

{You... what?!} The General's voice cracked with disbelief. {I didn't authorize that! You had no right!} he roared, brimming with fury.

It was a natural reaction. The "relay" referred to passive, semi-autonomous drones placed at strategic points throughout Imperial territory. Sending a report through them—especially one classified under military jurisdiction—meant that the data would be automatically forwarded to the Imperial Court.

In other words, every detail about their damages and delay would now be logged officially. If they failed to arrive on schedule, the discrepancy would be flagged. That kind of failure meant one thing: court martial.

The electrodes trailing behind his head began writhing erratically, releasing small blue sparks like a miniature lightning storm—a clear sign of mental agitation for Voltherians. I just kept smiling. After all, I wasn't the one with my back against the wall.

Even if he wanted to unleash his fury on me, he wouldn't dare. His fleet was composed of about fifty battered, limping ships. In contrast, we had 183 ships in pristine, combat-ready condition. If it came to blows, the outcome was obvious.

"Relax, General. I'm not trying to get you into trouble."

I wasn't heartless. I didn't particularly want to drag the man into a court martial. That would gain me nothing—at least, not at this stage.

"I'm an officially certified S-class Mechanic. One of my officers here is also a top-grade computer analyst. If the damage to your systems is real, we'll get your ships back online within the next ten hours."

That was, of course, if the damage actually existed.

If it turned out the supposed system failure was a fabrication, we could bypass all of this and head to A1-03 immediately.

{Kuh...!}

General Sam clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth in frustration. He hadn't expected the support he called in to become the very rope tugging him toward accountability. Still, after a few moments of visible inner conflict, he exhaled and composed himself.

{Fine. Give us three hours. We'll handle the repairs ourselves and get the necessary systems online so we can warp out.}

That was probably the most time he could realistically justify.

"Make it one hour," I countered with a friendly smile. "If I do it myself—and I focus only on the system preventing you from warping—I can get every one of your ships operational in under sixty minutes."

{Bullshit! That's impossible!}

"Oh, but it's true. Would you like a demonstration?"

{Kuh... Two hours. Give us at least two hours to make the necessary repairs.}

Two hours. Still slower than I'd like—but fair enough.

"Deal. In two hours, we'll open a warp path to Planet A1-03," I confirmed, making sure he clearly understood and agreed.

Without another word—or even a formal goodbye—the General abruptly ended the communication. I could only shrug at his immature exit.

Two hours. That's how long we'd need to watch over and protect their weakened fleet. Thankfully, we were still within the inner radius of the 1st planetary cluster. Pirates wouldn't usually roam this deep in Imperial territory.

No, the "enemy" we'd be protecting them from was likely to be someone else entirely—the Shadowless Hawks.

"And speak of the devil..."

Just as that thought passed through my mind, our radar lit up with a proximity alert. Incoming signal. A fleet—around two hundred ships strong—heading straight for us. Their size classified all of them as large-scale vessels—battleships or larger.

Eva pulled visuals from our external cams, revealing a sight that left no doubt. Two hundred sleek, black ships gliding through space, all marked with the white hawk insignia.

There was no mistaking it—Shadowless Hawks.

I slapped the side of the control panel and reconnected to General Sam immediately. But before I could speak, his face already appeared onscreen—eyes wide, tone panicked. Our radars must've shown him the same thing.

{I-It's the Shadowless Hawks! Mercenaries, do your job! Protect us while we work on repairs! Put your lives on the line if you must!}

"..."

The fact that he didn't immediately attempt to warp out confirmed it—the damage to their systems was real. To what degree, I still couldn't be sure. But clearly, escape was off the table for them.

"Well then," I muttered, cracking my knuckles with anticipation. "If all we need to do is buy time, we're more than capable of that."

Perfect timing, really.

I was itching for a good space battle anyway.

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