Chapter 7: Something to Die For

Chapter 7: Something to Die For

CHAPTER 7

SOMETHING TO DIE FOR

“Activating first and second Flywheels. No abnormal transformer substations detected.”

“Commencing cooldown of catapult rails. Coolant device operating at twenty-three percent and rising—”

“Canopy disengaged. Deploying catapult rail.”

Shin, resting in Undertaker’s cockpit with his eyes closed as it remained on standby, raised his head at the sound of a heavy, rumbling roar reverberating from above. His three optical screens were currently synced with his mothercraft ’s external cameras, granting him a slanted view from the nose of the plane. At the edge of his vision, he could see the camouflaged canopy of the underground catapult opening, exposing the surface.

The dark-indigo glow of dawn filled the cockpit, spilling in from the rectangular window to the sky. The sun still hadn’t risen from below the horizon, its rays mingling with the darkness of night, granting the heavens a peculiar transparent shade of indigo blue. Autumn stars, the names of which Shin didn’t know, silently faded away.

With its slide stretching out, the catapult’s extension rails stabbed into the daybreak’s sky as if to challenge the stars themselves, and a metallic screech tore through the night air as machinery locked into place.

“First to final joint locks—complete. Nachzehrer, ready to launch.”

The first time it was shown to him was a month ago, a week after the strike operation into the Legion’s territories was decided.

“Some people have called it the forbidden shutter.”

Come to think of it, they never had seen this shutter at the back of the 1,028th Trial Unit’s hangar in the division’s HQ base open before. Beyond this bulky anti-bombardment shutter was a slant with a width of over one hundred meters.

Grethe spoke as she stood before the control panel of the elevator filling the space, looking down into the darkness below it. Even though fifteen Processors and all the maintenance crew, control personnel, and researchers were standing on it, they occupied less than half the open space on this abnormally large elevator.

“This hangar was originally used to store experimental weapons during the Empire’s reign. Then the war broke out, and we had to abandon this base for a time. But her rollout and test flights were already complete, and we left her shortly before we began mass production.”

“I imagine it was placed in an underground facility to keep things confidential, but this base was close to the border at the time. How did you perform the test flights?”

“Unlike fighter and bomber planes, its performance wasn’t something to keep a secret, and the greatest thing that was expected of this little one was the fact that she couldn’t be seen. We needed a large, empty place to perform her test flights, and the only place that fit the bill was the western Vargus territories, the Wolfsland. In other words, here. Her hangar was underground to protect her from air strikes, and it was better to have all her related control and construction facilities underground, too. Thanks to that, the Tausendfüßler never managed to find her and pick her apart.”

With the exception of the Ameise, the Legion’s sensors and perception ability were inferior. They may detect a Feldreß or a fighter jet lying around, but an “experimental craft” hidden behind shutters meant to protect against bombardment escaped their attention for the decade they had control over these territories.

“Related facilities?”

“Basically, her runway… Or more precisely, the catapult attached to it. If she was to work the way the military intended, she would be too heavy to take off on her own and would require an electric catapult to go airborne.”

The subtle vibrations of the elevator came to a stop. Grethe entered the darkness with familiar steps, the clicking of her military shoes echoing far and deep. It was a large, open space, in terms of width, depth, and height. Suddenly, every light bulb in the room switched on, and white LEDs blinded their corneas for a moment.

Grethe turned around, with her back to that . One of the Processors, or perhaps someone from the maintenance crew, swallowed nervously. None could recognize the full scope of the thing crouching before them. It was simply that large. Its full length was likely almost one hundred meters, dwarfing even the C-5 Hræsvelgr, the largest transport plane in the world and pride of the old Empire’s air force. Its dull metallic fuselage had a planar composition typical of stealth crafts. It had the shape of a massive boomerang that somehow gave the impression of a dragon spreading its wings.

“I present to you the prototype Landkraft, the XC-1 Nachzehrer.”

The unfamiliar model name seemed to have been based off a legend from the Federacy’s southeast, of a vampire that rises from its grave, drags its shadow along cemeteries, and rings church bells. The name felt somewhat unfitting for a military aircraft soaring through the skies, but Grethe answered everyone’s apprehensions with her follow-up statement.

“She’s an unusual aircraft that employs the massive dynamic lift she gains near the surface to fly while barely grazing the ground. She has a cruising speed and payload equal to that of a normal airplane and flies lower than a cruise missile, at an extremely low-altitude flight of only several meters above ground level. That makes her extremely unsusceptible to detection by cruise missiles and radars… She was originally created for large-scale, high-speed transport exclusively along the Wolfsland front. Her official payload is two hundred and fifty tons, but if you ignore margin, this baby is capable of packing three hundred. She was designed to carry squads of four Vánagandrs at a time.”