Dagger Squad Attacks

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

April 2, C.E. 71, at the edge of the air defense identification zone over the eastern waters of the East Asian Republic.

At 2:17 a.m., East Asian coastal radar stations detected six high-speed signals entering 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 in a voice stretched taut over the encrypted channel.

"Special Equipment Bureau, this is East Sea Defense Zone Fourth Watch Station. Six unidentified MS are flying level at high speed fifteen kilometers south of our alert 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."

In the underground command center of the Special Equipment Bureau, Lin Yuan was already standing before the tactical display when Sheng Lan received the transmission.

Six red points dragged six parallel trails across the screen.

"Speed?"

"Mach 1.2. Standard Dagger maximum cruising speed."

"Weapon loadout?"

"Radar signature indicates 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 consult her notes.

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

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. The other side has not crossed the airspace baseline and remains in a gray area. Direct interception could trigger a diplomatic dispute, and the Atlantic Federation will exploit the situation."

Lin Yuan did not answer the chief of staff.

He walked to the communications console and switched to another frequency.

"He Changying."

The commander of the East Asian Space Force answered through the encrypted channel. The hum of bridge equipment sounded behind him; he was already at his command post.

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

"Where's Black Iron?"

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

"Can the machine fight?"

He Changying paused for a beat.

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

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

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

"Director, you're sending an untested prototype into combat?"

The chief of staff's voice squeezed in again from the other end of the channel.

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

"Chief of Staff." Lin Yuan's pace did not change, but every syllable was bitten out sharply. "Six armed MS are flying at combat speed inside East Asia's air defense identification zone and refusing identification challenges. That isn't a lack of hostility. They're testing how much nerve we have."

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 procedures. The right arm joint has insufficient break-in, and firing the Bombard Gun more than three times in succession carries 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-frequency communications key.

"Han Zheng."

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

"Here."

"Get up. Board the machine."

"Director, what exercise?"

"Live combat."

The communications channel fell silent for less than a second.

"Received."

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 load ammunition 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.

"Delivery method?"

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

Sheng Lan closed her notebook.

"Director, there is no parachute pack or guidance signal. A free fall from twelve thousand meters, the overload 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 marked with civilian aviation insignia flew along a cargo route at an altitude of 12,100 meters.

The lighting in the cargo hold shifted to warning red.

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

The machine 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 ammo belt on the Bombard Gun at the end of its right arm was fully loaded, and the new locking mechanism in the feed box gave off faint metallic clicks.

Sheng Lan's voice came through the communications channel.

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

"Understood."

"The pilot life-threshold auto-lock has been activated. Any vital signs exceeding the limit will trigger a system alarm."

The corner of Han Zheng's mouth twitched.

"Received."

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

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

The rail locks released.

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

The numbers on the altimeter began to avalanche.

Ten thousand. Nine thousand. Eight thousand.

Han Zheng clenched his teeth as the overload pressed his spine into the seat.

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

The plasma-assisted thrusters ignited with a roar. At 1,500 meters above the ground, the machine decelerated violently. Its joints groaned, and a ring of orange light burst from the seams of its Ceramic Steel armor plates.

Black Iron's feet slammed into an abandoned runway on the outskirts of the industrial zone. Concrete cracked, and dust surged upward in rolling clouds more than ten meters high.

Before the smoke had cleared, the sharp click of the ammo belt chambering a round came from the right arm.

Han Zheng said only four words over the communications channel.

"Landing complete."

Seventy kilometers away, the six red points were turning around.