Chapter 2691: The Pursuit of Glory

The Eager Condemnation followed her sister s.h.i.+ps to the grave, but not before someone made it out before the final moment!

Just as instructed, the Transcendent Punishers targeted a specific section of the hull that encompa.s.sed one of the fleet carrier's hangar bays.

After blasting through the hull plating and creating a large breach, a c.o.c.kpit of all vehicles flung out of the gap!

It turned out that Aisling had secretly holed herself up in the spare c.o.c.kpit of the Charlemagne!

"Someone is escaping! Stop the traitor!"

Predictably, the rest of the Eager Condemnation's crew weren't happy about that. The surviving ranged mechs quickly began to fire at the escaping c.o.c.kpit, but its sh.e.l.l was built to take a punishment.

The c.o.c.kpit survived long enough for the Larkinson to suppress or destroy the Fridaymen mechs that stuck their necks out to kill the defector!

The most forward Larkinson mechs soon reached the escaping c.o.c.kpit and carefully escorted it back to the Spirit of Bentheim.

The crew of the Eager Condemnation knew that they had failed. General Pierce shook his head and gave the command.

"Let us end this farce before more of us try to escape. Ladies and gentlemen, it is an honor to serve by your side!"

"For the Friday Coalition!"

The last escaping deep strike fleet carrier exploded violently! The s.p.a.ce around the vessel became filled with debris as an uncountable amount of pieces fling in every direction.

While this was going on, the pursuit against the s.h.i.+ps and mechs of the Praetors and Planats proceeded a lot less smoothly.

Unlike the Fridaymen, the traitor clans still retained around a thousand functional mechs when their commanding officers ordered a retreat.

The Cross Clan was determined to prevent their escape! The bad blood between the three clans was too great for either side to give up their vendetta against each other.

However, the remnants of the enemy mechs were heavily outnumbered. Just as Ves and the others discussed, there was no need to get too close.

The artillery mechs of the Golden Skull Alliance calmly maintained their distance while bombarding their enemies from afar. By concentrating their firepower on hostile ranged mechs first, they first neutralized the enemy's ability to retaliate.

Once they completed this step, the artillery mechs began to fire at the remainder of the enemy mechs with impunity. They also fired at the propulsion systems of the fleeing enemy carriers.

Just like the Fridaymen, the traitor clans opted to split up their s.h.i.+ps and flee in separate directions.

This tactic was a lot more effective this time!

While the Praetor Clan and Planat Clan only brought three capital s.h.i.+ps, they also brought over 50 combat carriers. While a number of those vessels had already fallen in battle, plenty of them were left to carry their surviving crews back to safety!

"It's useless." A tired Ylvainan mech pilot said as he mechanically pointed the guns of his overstressed Transcendent Punisher at another fleeing combat carrier. "Even if we miss 90 percent of our shots at this distance, it's still useless. s.p.a.ce is empty. There is no escape from our guns."

It would have been a different story if the battle took place in the orbit of a planet or in the middle of an asteroid belt. There would have been plenty of natural terrain for the fleeing opponents to shelter behind.

It just so happened that the enemy strike force ambushed the expeditionary fleet when the latter was on its way to another destination.

There were no satellites or asteroids worth nothing in the vicinity. If that was the case, it would have been impossible for the expeditionary fleet to transition out of FTL in this area.

It wasn't as if the Praetors and Planats were unaware of this truth. They were all experienced and professionally-trained soldiers. They could read the outcome of the situation as well as their enemies.

Venerable Damira Planat and Venerable Albert Praetor held the final word in their respective detachments.

Even though they had safely ejected from their broken expert mechs and returned to their flags.h.i.+ps, neither of them were in a good mood.

In the Vicious Mountain Star Sector, every mech pilot knew that pursuing glory and victory in battle was a dangerous road. Those who fought for fame, honor or territory did so with the full knowledge that the losers often met an unfortunate end.

In truth, conflicts in the Garlen Empire rarely ended in death. That would just weaken the powerful second-rate state excessively.

Most conflicts amounted to limited territorial border conflicts where one tribe or clan tried to nibble a couple of star systems from their neighboring rivals.

These campaigns were so minor that the Garleners didn't even regard them as proper wars.

No matter who won or lost, the losing soldiers were usually ransomed back. For those that couldn't, the winning side usually absorbed the losers in their ranks.

In many cases, this wasn't a big deal. Mech pilots and other soldiers switching their allegiances to a winner was not an objectionable act as long as it was an 'honorable' defection.

How the Garleners determined that was rather opaque. In general, as long as the treachery wasn't ugly, it was tolerable.

The reason why the natives of the Vicious Mountain Star Sector easily accepted this reality was due to two reasons.

First, they all shared a common ident.i.ty as citizens of the Garlen ident.i.ty. This effectively meant that every internal conflict amounted to a factional struggle. Defecting to a different state was much more egregious than switching over to another faction.

Defection was a core component of every factional struggle. The faction that achieved the most success or presented the best vision naturally deserved to take in a lot of people.

Second, the overwhelming majority of citizens in the Garlen Empire simply didn't matter. No matter if they were lowly mech technicians or influential ministers, they were all painted with the same brush.

The only people who truly called the shots were expert pilots and ace pilots. The latter were treated like monarchs or presidents even if they didn't know anything about governing billions or trillions of people!

This was why the entire crews of the Praetor and Planat carriers didn't dare to act on their own accord. The captains of the s.h.i.+ps and the senior command staff also refrained from acting presumptively.

As long as their expert pilots told them to shut down their vessels and surrender to their pursuers, they would fulfill their instructions without hesitation.

Of course, Damira and Albert never even considered that option.

The Crossers were far too vengeful to let anyone off. Surrender or not, the Preators and Planats that had survived up until now were destined to die!

Since that was the case, they might as well meet their ends with dignity.

Both expert pilots had retreated to their respective staterooms in order to talk in private over the comm. They faced their projections with a heavy sense of failure.

"Our gamble failed." Albert stated the obvious. "It's regrettable that we can't bring any of our forces back to our clans. The clansmen back home will probably resent us for decades for depriving them of so many a.s.sets and mech pilots."

Venerable Damira Planat was even more miserable. As a high-tier expert pilot, her fall represented a major loss to her clan.

Yet despite this awful outcome, she did not show any remorse. Expert pilots did not doubt their decisions. Whether the outcome was good or bad, they acted according to their judgement.

While it was difficult to understand why they had taken such a considerable risk to attack a clan that was already exiled from the Becker Tribe, it made complete sense to Damira and the other ringleaders.

Their animosity towards the Cross Clan ran deep. Many of the partic.i.p.ants in this failed attack had personally lost a lot of comrades and relatives. Damira had personally vowed to take revenge on the Crossers whenever possible. There was no way for her to shy away from this opportunity when the odds looked so good.

It turned out that she had been far too dismissive of the combat strength of the allies of the Cross Clan.

She rubbed her hand over her shaven head. "It is not a shame to lose to the likes of the Larkinson Clan. Their fighting spirit and unique methods already proves they are bound for greatness. The two of us will probably occupy an important place in their annals. We'll be remembered for the strength and valor we have shown in battle."

Venerable Albert eased up after hearing that. "You're right. The Crossers might spit on our names, but the Larkinsons.. are different. We should have befriended them rather than turning our guns at them. The Cross Clan is so lucky to get to them first."

The two fell silent for a time. While they knew what they had to do, it was still difficult for them to pull the trigger.

Venerable Damira sighed. "I was sure that succeeding here would serve as the catalyst for me to advance to ace pilot."

"Truly?" The former pilot of the Imperial Verdict reacted with surprise. "Is the vow of revenge you've taken that important to you?"

"I am always sure about these matters. Do you know what separates ace pilots from expert pilots?"

"We must find our calling. It is not enough to abide by a principle or conviction. We must dedicate ourselves to a cause that is greater than what our current strength can handle. The reason why most expert pilots stall in their growth is that they are subconsciously content with their current strength."

Expert pilots never advanced if they felt that they were already capable of resolving every issue.

Only those who truly yearned and needed the strength of an ace pilot were able to push themselves beyond their limits!

"That's true, but it's not the complete picture according to my understanding." Damira quietly replied.

It was never that simple. If this was the sole requirement, then a lot of expert pilots would have broken through a long time ago. Only those who were close to the threshold like Venerable Damira and Patriarch Reginald understood the greater requirements.

"Is it related to the Saint Kingdom?" Albert guessed.

"I don't know. All I can tell you is that it's not enough to talk the talk. You must walk the walk. If you go against your convictions even once, you can forget about becoming more than an expert pilot."

This was an incredibly onerous demand, but hardly any expert pilot objected to it. Their dedication was legendary. They wouldn't be who they were if they betrayed their principles as often as they changed their clothes.

An ace pilot was overwhelmingly superior to an expert pilot in all aspects. It was a given that they should be even more unflinching towards their chosen conviction!

"What separates a Saint from a Venerable is not just putting all of your thoughts and words into auction." Damira continued. "We also need to earn recognition from enough people. G.o.ds are wors.h.i.+pped by mortals, are they not? Since we all walk the path to G.o.d pilot, we must separate ourselves from our humble origins and a.s.sume the mantle of greatness in our society. If we managed to succeed in killing off the remnants of the Cross Clan.. then the entire Planat Clan would have recognized my accomplishment."

Albert looked astonished. He never heard this theory in the Praetor Clan! "Is this true?"

"I don't know. This is what my predecessors in the Planat Clan thought. They themselves learned it from another clan, so I can't determine whether this hearsay is correct. Still, it makes too much sense to me. This is the truth of the Garlen Empire. It explains everything about our great state. The pursuit of glory is not just about becoming immortalized. It's also a path of ascension to ambitious mech pilots like us. Expert pilots are never able to advance in isolation. Each of us needs the help of norms to lift us higher."

"I see…" Venerable Albert Praetor looked fascinated, but only for a moment. "It's unfortunate that this knowledge doesn't help us in any way. I won't live long enough to earn any further glory."

Both of them lowered their heads. Eventually, Venerable Damira lifted herself up. She was ready.

"Let's do it. Don't leave anything behind for the Crossers."

"Very well."

All of the s.h.i.+ps of the Praetor Clan and the Planat Clan in the star system blew up at the same time!