"All mobile suit pilots and starfighter pilots, immediately assemble at the flight deck! I repeat, all pilots, proceed to the flight deck at once!"
Liu Peiqiang sprinted toward his X-wing fighter, still chewing on a steamed bun he hadn't finished.
The X-wing—equipped with four laser cannons, proton torpedo launchers, and room for one pilot plus an astromech droid—was already prepped and waiting in the hangar for launch orders.
"Flight Formation Five ready for takeoff! Repeating, Flight Formation Five ready for takeoff!"
Liu quickly donned his helmet, powered up the systems, and gripped the controls with full focus.
"Take a deep breath! I'm right behind you!"
Zhou Qian's voice crackled over the comms from his TIE/In fighter.
"Zhou! Your ship's already sacrificed a lot of systems for speed. Don't be reckless! Just follow me closely. I'll clear the path for you!"
Wang Lei, flying at the front in a Lightning Fighter, cut in sharply.
"All combat units, you have free-fire authorization! Repeat: free-fire authorized! Primary target: reduce the enemy's starfighters and warships from the Star Carrier!"
The order broadcasted smoothly from Combat Info Command to all units. Coordinated perfectly, Liu Peiqiang and Zhou Qian took off with the squadron, piercing the void of space.
"Enemy spotted!"
In the darkness of the galaxy, the golden-plated warship Durmoth stood out—an ideal target for the fighter pilots.
"Fire!"
Liu Peiqiang was the first to lock on the Durmoth's escort fighters. He pressed the fire button, unleashing a barrage of blaster beams that tore the enemy apart into glowing debris drifting in space.
"One down!"
Liu cheered, watching the fiery wreckage float by.
From the front of his cockpit, the astromech droid emitted warning beeps.
"Don't get overconfident," the system translator relayed the droid's message. "Master warned you never to underestimate the enemy. Stay calm... calm as Mount Tai."
"About your weight, you're definitely as heavy as Mount Tai. Time to start dieting," Zhang Peng teased.
"Zhou, the only thing stopping you from obesity is a bowl of rice," Liu Peiqiang quipped.
"This is a public channel, you know? I can hear all of this," Wang Lei said flatly, though a smile lingered in his voice.
Zhang Peng fell silent, eyes locked on the flashing messages on his cockpit screen. The strong persona he had built was slipping away.
"Oh damn!" he cursed in frustration.
Suddenly, two Durmoth fighter jets sped around him, trapping him mercilessly.
"Wang Lei! Help me!" Zhang yelled over the comms.
"I can't, it's chaos here! What the hell is going on?" Wang Lei replied anxiously.
He was fighting fiercely amid a hail of enemy fire from warships circling him.
"Why doesn't this ship have tracking missiles? Why do you have a helper robot? I'm stuck with just machine guns and dumb missiles!" Wang Lei complained loudly, frustrated at his Lightning Fighter's shortcomings.
"Explosion!"
Suddenly, Wang Lei was startled as his fighter collided with one of the Durmoth jets. But unexpectedly—the ship remained intact, and so did he, without a scratch.
"Now that's awesome!" Wang Lei shouted, firing bursts of bullets at the enemy that exploded into sparkling fireworks in space.
"Whoa!!" Wang Lei bounced inside the cockpit, acting like a man drunk and losing his mind.
"What the—?" Liu Peiqiang froze, stunned by Wang Lei's antics, but his focus snapped back immediately.
A Durmoth warship violently intercepted the Star Carrier's fighter jump, ramming Liu Peiqiang's ship.
"Fuck!" Liu barely dodged as his fighter was slammed against the wide-open hangar bay of the enemy vessel.
"Peiqiang!" Zhang Peng, who considered Liu like a son, shouted in panic.
"I'm fine," Liu Peiqiang replied calmly, climbing out of the cockpit and tossing his helmet aside.
"Move quickly, go, go!"
Swiftly, Liu Peiqiang helped a fallen mechanical robot, carrying it as they dashed through the dark corridors of the warship.
"Come on, BB!" he urged the small robot, as if cheering it on through their desperate escape.
---
Amid the chaos of the interstellar battle, two mobile suits—a blazing red Zaku and a heavily armored white RGM-79—moved nimbly among the ruins of shattered starships.
"Target ahead!" the Zaku pilot shouted, aiming his heavy machine gun at a squadron of fast starfighters zooming by.
Meanwhile, the RGM-79 pilot activated his energy shield and fired automatic cannon rounds at starfighters trying to flank them.
"Cover the right wing, I'll watch your back!" the Zaku pilot commanded firmly over internal comms.
Enemy starfighters—small, sleek ships with narrow dark wings—darted unpredictably, attempting to encircle the two mobile suits.
One starfighter launched a homing torpedo that streaked toward the RGM-79. Reflexively, the pilot twisted the suit's body, dodging the nearby explosion that left thick black smoke.
"Hurry! Bazooka, now!" ordered the Zaku pilot, launching a counterattack that slammed right into the heart of the enemy formation, scattering it into sparkling shards.
The RGM-79 retaliated with plasma cannon fire, scorching the wing of a starfighter trying to flee.
"Now that's a fight!" muttered the Zaku pilot, exhilarated.
But the enemy wouldn't back down. Another wave of starfighters emerged from asteroid shadows, piling pressure on the two mobile suits who were starting to strain.
"Defensive formation! Don't let them break through!" the RGM-79 pilot ordered.
With precise coordination, Zaku and RGM-79 covered each other's blind spots, repelling wave after wave of increasingly reckless attacks.
In the dark void of space, the sound of gunfire and flashes of explosions echoed—marking a fierce battle between the heavy firepower of mobile suits and the swift agility of starfighters.