The warehouse, previously filled with gunfire, fell silent. No reinforcements entered through the destroyed main door.
Zhou Tianming emerged from a corner of the warehouse, cautiously eyeing the gaping doorway as he quickly approached the Mistral.
From afar, the Mistral appeared small, but up close it was about the size of a truck.
The circular cockpit's upper hatch stood open, where Ogsha poked out her helmeted head and waved him over.
Zhou Tianming climbed the ladder behind the spherical head section and squeezed inside with Ogsha.
The Mistral's interior was cramped. Most space was occupied by the forward screen, with a crescent-shaped control panel covered in buttons surrounding the pilot seat. At the panel's center sat a rectangular steering wheel integrated with numerous controls.
Ogsha took the pilot seat while Zhou Tianming settled into her lap.
Designed for single occupancy, the safety belts could only secure one person.
Ogsha wrapped one arm around Zhou Tianming's waist while reaching over his head with the other to grip the steering wheel.
Her moving arms kept brushing against Zhou Tianming's head.
After several bumps, Zhou Tianming suggested, "Maybe I should handle the steering wheel? I'm blocking your movements here."
"You know how?"
"I can manage directional control. You handle the foot pedals and thrusters with one hand still holding me so I don't go flying during takeoff."
Ogsha tested the arrangement and found it more practical: "Alright then. Just get us into the shuttle."
As Ogsha explained each button's function on the steering wheel, she simultaneously operated other systems.
Above them, the cockpit hatch slowly sealed with electric whirring, followed by the secondary lock engaging firmly.
Simultaneously, mechanical sounds echoed as a massive metal door descended at the warehouse entrance, its edges screeching against the warped remains of the blasted main door.
When the barrier fully lowered, the warehouse lights shifted to red as the distributed airlock systems activated, expelling atmosphere.
Soon, the warehouse became a vacuum matching the external space environment.
With mechanical rumblings, the rear warehouse doors parted, revealing the black void beyond.
Ogsha gently pressed the accelerator while Zhou Tianming gradually pulled back on the controls.
The Mistral lifted unsteadily at first, its thrusters fluctuating between strong and weak bursts while the craft wobbled left and right.
After several minutes of coordination, their teamwork improved. Though moving slowly, the craft stabilized and maneuvered smoothly toward the open doors and the waiting cosmos.
...
In space, not far from Mendel Satellite's periphery.
A small, pitch-black spacecraft approximately 100 meters in length remained stationary in space.
Its slender frame was equipped with a 200mm electromagnetic cannon on top, flanked by missile bays and anti-air Vulcan cannons on either side.
Inside the warship, the CIC officer suddenly announced: "Detection—Siegel Clyne's secret dock doors have opened. A Mistral has launched."
From the captain's seat, a gaunt-faced middle-aged man with narrow eyes responded in a sinister tone: "Useless fools. Can't even handle Siegel's wife properly?"
Then, in his unnaturally soft voice, he issued orders: "Track that Mistral. Let's see if we can lure out Siegel Clyne himself."
His face twisted with displeasure as he added: "Blue Cosmos is utterly incompetent. They botched a perfectly good ambush by acting prematurely."
"Couldn't even wait for the agreed time? Now they've only killed a few insignificant Coordinators and let the big fish—Siegel—slip away."
At this moment, his deputy seated behind him spoke up: "Captain Kent, according to the latest intel, Blue Cosmos forces below acted early because they discovered something—claims about someone creating monsters. Specific details haven't been reported yet."
"Monsters?" Kent sneered. "Every elite Coordinator is a monster in their own right. These underlings have no perspective—they panic at the slightest thing."
Suddenly, the CIC shouted: "Target acquired! Confirmed as Siegel's shuttle!"
Kent's soft voice sharpened to a near-shriek: "Location?"
"Approaching Mendel. Likely attempting to rendezvous with that Mistral."
"Excellent!" Kent slapped his armrest and stood. "Full speed ahead—cut engines in one minute and coast on inertia for approach."
His deputy hesitated: "Sir, that might allow them to escape."
Kent gave him a patronizing look, leaning back casually. "We're still too distant. If we spook them, they might abandon Ogsha-Clyne entirely—and we'd never catch up."
"Both sides need time now. We mustn't rush."
After a pause, Kent continued: "Deploy the MA Squad. Perfect opportunity to gather space combat data. Have them cling to the ship's underside during approach, then send one unit around outside radar range."
"To attack the shuttle?"
"No—that's our primary target. Have them strike Ogsha-Clyne's Mistral instead. Whatever Siegel chooses to do next, we win either way."
"Aye, sir!"
"Charge the main cannon. Lock onto the Mistral."
"Captain, the Mistral's too small for reliable main cannon hits."
"I know. And Siegel knows too. But I'll gamble—and he won't."
As orders cascaded through the ship, crewmembers sprang into action.
Ten space-modified fighters launched, splitting into two teams per instructions.
...
On the opposite side of Mendel Satellite, a 60-meter-long shuttle shaped like a whale streaked toward the station.
This specially modified shuttle boasted external armor plating and concealed automatic cannons on both flanks—a vessel built for more than mere transport.
"Detecting the signal of Mistral carrying Lady Ogsha. It has left the dock and is approaching."
Seated in the command chair, Siegel leaned forward before suddenly settling back with a long exhale. "Excellent. Keep scanning the surroundings and be wary of any enemies lurking nearby."
Just then, the CIC reported, "Lord Siegel, a small combat vessel is approaching. No ship model data available—it's a specialized combat craft."
"Raise combat alert to Level One. All hands, prepare for battle. That must be the previous attackers. What are their movements?"
"No propulsion light detected. They're drifting closer on inertia. No targeting response observed—their main cannon shows no signs of movement."
Siegel frowned, deep in thought before his expression darkened. "Calculate the trajectory of their main cannon. I suspect they're aiming at Ogsha."
The crew hesitated briefly before swiftly typing away. Seconds later, data appeared on the screen, displaying the enemy's firing path.
"But Mistral is so small—hitting it with a main cannon is nearly impossible."
"They're betting I won't risk Ogsha's life," Siegel ordered. "Adjust our ship's position to block their line of fire. Don't give them a chance to target her."
He then asked, "How long until Ogsha arrives?"
"About ten minutes."
Nodding, he said, "Stay vigilant. Keep a close eye on them. A ship that size must have a Mobile Armor unit. Once we retrieve Ogsha, retreat at full speed."
After a pause, he added, "Tell Li Cun, Osis, and Terry to prepare for Mobile Armor combat."
"Yes, sir!"
Suddenly, the CIC shouted, "Mobile Armors detected at our rear!"
"Deploy the Automatic Cannons and prepare for MA engagement!"
"Wait—their target isn't us! It's Lady Ogsha!"
Siegel shot up from his seat, stunned. "What?!"