"Reporting, my star shield is down to 5%. Requesting to break off and return!"
"All my missiles are spent, and the cannon is down to 30% energy. Requesting to return!"
"Damn it, I'm hit. I have to pull out; cover me!"
As the fighting went on.
Zhao Chen's flight, too, began to run out of ordnance, their star-shield energy nearly spent.
This was because of the nature of interstellar fighters.
In combat, once a fighter's overall fighting capacity fell to a certain level, the pilot could ask to break off and return to the mother ship,
to make ready for the next sortie.
As more and more fighters asked to break off.
Zhao Chen put in his request too.
Broadly, this whole flight chose to break off, one after another.
Nor could one withdraw blindly; one had to ask the flights still in the fight for covering fire.
And some fighters in good condition had to be arranged to bring up the rear, and so on.
Once they were truly clear of the battlefield,
easy chatter began on the channel.
Everyone talked of how well they had done, and how many enemy fighters they had downed.
The richest tally was the warrant officer's, the formation leader: five enemy fighters downed outright.
To kill five fighters in one sortie was, one may say, a remarkable tally.
"The leader's amazing! Five enemy fighters in one sortie!"
"With a tally like that, once this campaign is over. You'll make second lieutenant. And lead a flight squadron of your own, like our lieutenant!"
"When you're promoted, sir, don't forget to stand us all a drink!"
The warrant officer listened to this flattery and answered a few words in kind.
But his eyes were on the formation roster window, on that inconspicuous DK9577 with a single kill.
When others fight, they mostly attend to how they themselves are flying.
They do not notice much around them.
But he had noticed at the time.
Of the fighters he had killed with someone's help, three had been with this DK9577!
It must be understood that his most splendid tally before this had been three fighters in one sortie.
And this time he had taken five.
He had not expected it himself.
The fighting had felt very comfortable at the time.
It had felt like… being hungry… and having someone hand the food straight to your mouth.
Once would have been one thing.
But it had happened two or three times running.
And their formation's results this time were very good besides: over sixty enemy fighters killed in all!
A tally that would surely rank in this void battle.
It must be understood that in their Alliance fleets, simply to trade one for one.
Counted as a great victory!
A win with so great an advantage to their own side was truly beyond anything expected.
What was going on with this lad?
Was it a fluke, or did he truly have such ability?
Zhao Chen, meanwhile, had probably never imagined that, keeping so low a profile, he could still draw someone's notice.
Just now Zhao Chen was looking at the twelve pilots' numbers gone dim in the formation window.
He knew that behind those twelve numbers were twelve people, and behind some of them perhaps a family.
He felt something unfamiliar just then.
Because the Owl Dragon legions had the black technology of clone revival,
even great losses on the battlefield had moved Zhao Chen only a little.
But now these interstellar soldiers were truly dead.
They had no chance to begin again.
And beyond doubt, the interstellar fighter pilot's trade had the highest death rate in an interstellar fleet.
And so, naturally, the fastest promotion.
And the largest death benefit as well.
In seeing to the comfort of the fallen, this term's legendary Leader was very attentive.
Zhao Chen drew his thoughts back.
Watching the mother ship come into view,
he flew his fighter down as the tower required,
landing at the designated spot.
Then that spot sank away beneath him.
This lift platform would carry Zhao Chen into the combat hangar.
In the course of it the airframe was 'cleaned' as well, to keep dangerous matter from space out of the bay.
For fighters badly damaged but able to fly home, fire suppression was done beforehand.
After a brief darkness,
the combat hangar appeared before Zhao Chen.
The platform stopped.
A ladder appeared beside Zhao Chen.
A ground crewman came up, some simple quick-eat food in her hands.
The canopy opened.
Zhao Chen took off his helmet.
"How's your condition? Can you keep fighting?"
Zhao Chen nodded. "No problem; I can fly again."
"Good. Your fighter's condition is assessed as very good. It only needs rearming. About a minute. Do you want to get out?" the ground crewman asked.
"No need," Zhao Chen shook his head.
"There's food here to put some energy back in you. Call me if you need anything." The ground crewman set the tray down in front of Zhao Chen.
Zhao Chen thanked her.
Then he looked over the food, picked one at random, and began eating.
Do not think lightly of fighters merely because they fly in space, and seem to fight only a few minutes.
Those few minutes of fighting leave one far more tired than an hour's fighting on the ground.
It is a state of high mental strain, and while maneuvering the body bears a very heavy load besides.
And how many sorties a fine pilot can fly in a single campaign.
Bears directly on how fine she is.
Zhao Chen glanced around.
Nearly every pilot whose fighter was in good condition had chosen not to leave it, or to rest.
They stayed in their fighters taking on food and resting, readying for the next launch.
Generally, for pilots such as these,
to fly one sortie and then be unable to fly again, unless wounded, would not do.
It would draw scorn.
People would jeer that you were small and feeble, with no staying power.
So in idle moments some would even compare how many sorties each had flown in a single mission.
Zhao Chen glanced then at a large screen ahead.
On it was their elite squadron's data.
Each pilot's state, for instance.
Gray for dead, green for resting, amber for standing by while the fighter was serviced, red for in combat.
Of the three hundred on the roster, over forty had already turned gray.
Which meant over forty pilots would not be coming back.
Perhaps one of them was someone who had sat behind Zhao Chen in the ready room just now.