Good Luck, Yukikaze

that the attacking base was also resupplying the one previously hit. The Strategic Reconnaissance Corps claimed that the behavior pattern they’d discovered indicated that the JAM did not keep all of their bases constantly active. Instead, they would mainly use one pair of widely separated bases, shifting through the pairs one after another as they’d launch their attacks. They had no actual proof of this, though. The neighboring bases, which should have been inactive, did not go completely unused, and the JAM did occasionally launch counterattacks from them. There were also no traces of transport or materials used for repairing the damaged bases coming from the paired bases. Not one JAM transport plane had ever been spotted, nor any JAM vehicles moving overground. Either the JAM used underground tunnels or had access to dimensional transport technology similar to the Passageway. In short, while the supply routes between their bases was a mystery, years’ worth of accumulated recon data suggested some sort of relationship between these pairs of bases. At the very least, the FAF could seize on this point to set up an attack operation that wouldn’t be a waste of time and possibly even break the stalemate they were in. To this end, the FAF authorities had considered the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps’ proposal, but realized that their proposed attack operation would take an enormous amount of resources and planning to carry out.

First of all, the FAF needed to find out what sort of attacks would be effective against the JAM bases. Once they knew that, they’d need to hit both of the paired bases simultaneously. As their forces stood, this was a difficult proposition. Hitting even one of the enemy’s main bases was a major operation in the best of times. Losses would be high. To hit two of them at the same time would require double the number of forces, just in case the Strategic Reconnaissance Corps were wrong. Carrying it out would be a gamble. If they lost, the JAM would swarm the Passageway and invade Earth, which was too high a wager to risk. It was the decision of the FAF’s highest level strategy session that they would have to wait to carry it out in the future. However, the work of the recon corps wasn’t simply ignored. When the operation to hit Richwar base had been put together, Cookie had been declared a secondary target, based on the recon corps’ determination that the bases were paired.

Although the FAF’s mission was nominally to intercept airborne enemy attacks and prevent the JAM from invading Earth, the FAF also knew that launching proactive attacks against the enemy would be met with retaliatory strikes. If the FAF could determine the direction from which the retaliation would originate, they could use that intel to adopt a more aggressive strategy. While the preparations for a counterattack had previously been tentative, FAF fighters would be able to more effectively form a defensive line if they knew where the enemy would be coming from. In any case, unless they discovered the means to completely destroy the JAM infestation, the war would never end.

What was the point of this battle? Rei wondered as he guided Yukikaze to the target airspace. The organization known as the FAF was fighting the JAM so that the organization itself could survive. If the authorities on Earth decided that the war was no longer necessary, then the FAF would be dismantled. Even though that wasn’t a realistic possibility at that point, if FAF methods were judged ineffective then the FAF would be reorganized, with a shakeup occurring at the top. The people who lived in the organization probably feared losing their political lives. Their attitude was that, so long as the battle against the JAM was effective, there was no problem. However, if it appeared that they weren’t getting results on the battlefield, their political influence would be in question. That was why they were desperate. Even as they battled the JAM, there were internal battles that needed to be won if the people at the top were to survive within the organization. The ones fighting these battles worried more about losing their positions than about losing their lives to the JAM. The Strategic Recon Corps is a good example, Rei realized. They’d proposed this plan based on JAM behavior patterns in combat so that their organization would survive. Declaring a major discovery, sans proof, was the act of an organization that needed to report something in order to justify its existence. Now their reputation for providing effective recon results was on the rise. If someone claimed their corps was unneeded, any move to dismantle it and let it be absorbed by the Strategic Air Corps or the Tactical Combat Air Corps would face opposition. If things worked out well, their organization might achieve stability and become an influential voice in the FAF. It was for this purpose, for this effect, that the JAM bases were being targeted.

In short, the humans weren’t fighting the JAM as individuals. The humans didn’t live autonomously. Major Booker had talked about it like it was a matter of course, but something about that seemed strange, Rei thought. Wouldn’t it be more normal to worry about being killed by the JAM than about fighting to protect the reputation or power one had amassed? At the very least, that was how Rei felt. Most other people would probably see it the same way as far as their individual lives went, but survival within their organizations was also a matter of great concern. That probably held true for every respectable human out there. People were living things that existed in groups. When a group known as an organization was threatened, the lives of the individuals within it were similarly threatened, and that was true for everyone from the moment they were born. It was even the same for monkeys and dogs. Living in groups was just safer. Monkeys, dogs, and people all ran this same program for survival. That was just as true for Rei. So then why did this manner of living seem so dubious to him? Wasn’t it more likely that he was the one to be doubted here?

Could I really live on my own? Rei wondered. He thought he could. But as a single individual, he’d ultimately have to admit to being mistaken. The reality was that if he were to be separated from the SAF and Yukikaze, he’d have no chance to survive against the JAM. So then where did this mistaken belief originate? It had to be because the environment of the SAF made you believe it. So long as this organization existed, he wouldn’t have to bother with the discord among the others. That was the job of their leader, General Cooley.

Rei recalled Major Booker once saying that their fates depended on General Cooley’s decisions. And truly, she was doing a good job. Good enough to let himself and the other pilots believe that they could survive on their own. Rei also couldn’t forget the meaning of Major Booker’s words for him to “think of your own survival strategy.”

Of course, that was what made the SAF different from all the other organizations there. Even while they recognized that they could not live alone, they also demanded to survive as individuals. This was tough to pull off. If you weren’t the sort of person who could say that they didn’t care about other people, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand the isolation. This was probably different for people who existed in other organizations.

“Friendlies, approaching. Confirming Tactical Combat Air Corps 9th TFS, returning from TAB-8. Number of planes: nine. Three minutes behind us, port side. Relative altitude: 1800. They’re making a low-altitude fly-by. No JAM detected nearby,” said Lieutenant Katsuragi from behind. It was the first time he’d spoken during the sortie.

“Roger.”

Rei imagined what this taciturn man was thinking. First of all would be his mission. Next, would be...Well, that would be the mission too. Just carrying out his orders and nothing else, especially while he was aboard a plane he still wasn’t used to, like Yukikaze. He probably didn’t have any spare time to think about anything else. Even if he did, he wouldn’t spend it like the guys in the 9th TFS passing below them, listening to the recreational DJ shows the FAF broadcast or the chatter going on between the other planes. He’d be an inhuman man, devoted to carrying out his duty like a machine. That was what other people might say about him, but Rei knew that they’d be wrong. If Lieutenant Katsuragi possessed the same emotions Rei did, then he’d be more concerned with his own existence than with doing his duty.

“Lieutenant Katsuragi,” Rei called back to him. “What sort of work did you do for Colonel Rombert?”

“Nothing that has anything to do with this job.”

Exactly the sort of answer he expected.

“General Cooley’s concerned that it does. Well, it doesn’t matter to me. We can talk about whatever you like, but keeping your jaws moving helps to keep you from getting drowsy. Talk with me. What do you think of the JAM?”

“What do you mean what do I think of them? What do you want to know?”

He really is like a particularly inflexible computer, Rei thought. Did I really used to be like that? Hell, I probably still am, even now.

“Have you ever seen the JAM?”

“No. Never,” Lieutenant Katsuragi replied.

“Even being in the FAF, formerly in the Intelligence Forces, no less,” Rei said. “It’s no wonder people on Earth doubt the JAM even exist.”

“Do you doubt their existence?”

“What makes you think I would?”

“I interpret what you said as doubt, and that you want people from Earth or me to see and confirm that they