Dagger Squad Strikes

Forty-one hours later, things happened seven hours sooner than Lin Yuan had expected.

April 2, C.E. 71, edge of the East Asian Republic's eastern maritime air defense identification zone.

At 2:17 a.m., East Asian coastal radar stations detected six high-speed signals cutting into low orbit from the northwest. Their speed and altitude profiles matched those of standard United Army Dagger MS units exactly.

The duty officer of the East Sea Defense Zone spoke through the encrypted channel, his voice stretched taut as a wire.

"Special Equipment Bureau, this is East Sea Defense Zone Fourth Outpost. Six unidentified MS are flying level at high speed fifteen kilometers south of our warning line. They have not responded to identification challenges, and their heading points toward Industrial Zone Nine. A Drake-class Frigate from the Atlantic Federation's Third Detachment is stationed on the other side of the boundary and has not followed."

By the time Sheng Lan connected to the signal in the Special Equipment Bureau's underground command room, Lin Yuan was already standing before the tactical display.

Six red points dragged six parallel trails across the screen.

"Speed?"

"Mach 1.2. Standard Dagger maximum cruise speed."

"Weapon loadout?"

"Radar signatures indicate live-ammunition pods and Light Beam Rifles."

Lin Yuan turned to Sheng Lan.

"What East Asian military facilities are near Industrial Zone Nine?"

Sheng Lan did not need to check her notes.

"The outer test range of the 811 Institute lies forty kilometers north of Industrial Zone Nine. The sonic boom from Black Iron's static firing test three days ago may have had its acoustic signature picked up by their reconnaissance satellites."

Another voice cut into the communications channel. It was the chief of staff of the East Asian coastal military district, his tone urgent.

"Special Equipment Bureau, district command recommends initiating diplomatic protest procedures. They have not crossed the airspace baseline and remain in a gray zone. Direct interception could trigger a diplomatic dispute, and the Atlantic Federation will seize on it."

Lin Yuan did not answer the chief of staff.

He walked over to the communications console and brought up another frequency.

"He Changying."

The commander of the East Asian Space Force came through the encrypted channel. The sounds of bridge equipment operating filled the background; he was already at his command post.

"Director, I see them. Six Daggers are out for a stroll."

"Where's Black Iron?"

"Xu Yanqiu's people finished installing the right arm joint two hours ago, and they replaced the ammunition-belt feed valve too. Han Zheng is sitting in the ready room. He hasn't slept."

"Can the unit fight?"

He Changying's voice paused for a beat.

"Hard to say. Xu Yanqiu said the joint still needs another twenty-four hours of break-in procedures. It's operating at roughly eighty percent now."

"Is eighty percent Black Iron enough against one hundred percent Daggers?"

He Changying did not answer immediately. A few seconds later, his voice lowered.

"Director, are you sending an unfinished prototype into combat?"

The chief of staff's voice forced its way into the channel again.

"Director Lin, the military district again recommends resolving this through diplomatic channels. The Dagger Squad has not displayed any clearly hostile behavior—"

"Chief of Staff." Lin Yuan's pace did not change, but every syllable was hard and deliberate. "Six armed MS are flying at combat speed within the East Asia Air Defense Identification Zone and ignoring identification challenges. That isn't a lack of hostility. They're testing your nerve."

The chief of staff fell silent.

Sheng Lan stood behind Lin Yuan, turning her notes to a fresh page.

"Director, Black Iron has not completed all test items. The right arm joint has not been sufficiently broken in, and firing more than three Bombard Rounds in rapid succession poses a structural risk. If sustained fire is needed in combat..."

"You can't test an enemy's arrogance in a laboratory."

Lin Yuan pressed the all-channel communications key.

"Han Zheng."

The scrape of chair legs came from the ready room. There was not a trace of sleepiness in Han Zheng's voice.

"Here."

"Get up. Board the unit."

"Director, what test?"

"Live combat."

The channel was silent for less than a second.

"Understood."

Lin Yuan switched to the logistics channel.

"811 Institute hangar. Load Black Iron with thirty-six Bombard Rounds. Interrupt the right arm joint break-in procedure and arm it directly. Get it onto the heavy transport within fifteen minutes."

Sheng Lan's pen left a line on her notes, the handwriting heavier than usual.

"Deployment method?"

"Airdrop. The heavy transport will climb to twelve thousand meters, then open the rear cargo door above Industrial Zone Nine. Black Iron will free-fall into the combat airspace. Han Zheng decides when to activate reverse thrust."

Sheng Lan closed her notes.

"Director, there is no parachute pack and no guidance signal. A free fall from twelve thousand meters, the G-forces on the pilot—"

"Han Zheng can take it."

Sheng Lan said nothing more.

Twenty-three minutes later.

Four hundred kilometers east of the East Asian capital, a heavy transport painted with civilian aviation markings flew along a cargo route at an altitude of twelve thousand one hundred meters.

The cargo hold lights shifted to warning red.

Han Zheng sat inside Black Iron's cockpit, his safety harness cinched tight. His gloved hands rested against the controls, his palms dry.

The unit was secured to the cargo hold rails. Its dark gray Ceramic Steel armor looked like a sharply edged iron ingot beneath the red light.

The ammunition belt on the Bombard Gun at the end of its right arm was fully loaded, and the new locking mechanism in the feed box made faint metallic clinks.

Sheng Lan's voice came through the communications channel.

"Han Zheng, the six Daggers are currently seventy kilometers away from you horizontally. They are conducting back-and-forth search patterns, with each cycle lasting around four minutes. Your landing window is between two cycles."

"Understood."

"Driver Vital Threshold Auto-Lock has been activated. Any vital sign exceeding the limit will trigger a system warning."

The corner of Han Zheng's mouth twitched.

"Received."

The transport's rear cargo door began to open slowly. Frigid high-altitude air poured in, and a thin layer of frost formed over the unit's surface.

Han Zheng drew a deep breath and tightened his grip on the controls.

The rail locks released.

Black Iron slid out the rear of the transport and plunged into the pitch-black night sky. The shriek of Ceramic Steel armor cutting through the air flooded the cockpit.

The altimeter numbers began to avalanche.

Ten thousand. Nine thousand. Eight thousand.

Han Zheng clenched his teeth as the G-forces pressed his spine into the seat.

When the red numbers in the cockpit flashed past four thousand meters, he pulled the reverse-thrust control with his right hand.

The plasma-assisted thrusters ignited with a roar. The unit decelerated violently at fifteen hundred meters above the ground, its joints creaking as a ring of orange light burst from the seams between the Ceramic Steel armor plates.

Black Iron's feet slammed into an abandoned runway on the outskirts of the industrial zone. Concrete cracked, and smoke and dust surged over ten meters into the air.

Before the smoke screen had even dispersed, the sharp clack of the ammunition belt chambering a round came from the right arm.

Han Zheng said only four words over the communications channel.

"Landing complete."

Seventy kilometers away, six red points were turning around.