The Type-15 Space Guardian was an experimental craft unveiled in 2015, code-named Type-15. It was painted in a dull military green—the kind of earthy, plain green that looked boring.
But Liu A'dou didn't mind. Just because it looked plain didn't mean it wasn't advanced. Its laser weapons were already world-class, but its all-angle radar had a pretty short range, nowhere near spotting or hitting enemies from 800 miles away. Plus, the effective range of the laser gun wasn't very far. Compared to America's Python, it had both advantages and disadvantages.
The advantage was the weapon system: unlike cannons, laser guns had almost no recoil, so they didn't mess with the craft's orientation when fired. The downside was that Liu A'dou had to rely entirely on radar to find anything. If someone spotted him first, he'd be at a big disadvantage. The Type-15 didn't have a transparent canopy; everything depended on the radar screen. According to An Rong, this was for safety. But Liu A'dou thought they still needed a glass cockpit or at least a camera feed. Right now, the Type-15 only had a radar display—but it was a prototype, so upgrades could come later.
Not being able to see outside was stifling.
"We've reached the designated orbit. Detaching the final stage and releasing the Type-15 prototype."
"Copy." Liu A'dou manually detached. "All systems normal. Detachment complete. Preparing to deploy solar panels."
Golden solar panels unfolded along with the green, multi-faceted body, looking like a kid's puzzle toy.
His body was strapped tightly into the seat with a safety harness to keep him steady. In zero gravity, if the Type-15 moved, Liu A'dou would float with it. A little puff from the thrusters could make big moves.
"Solar panels normal. Activating radar and starting search."
Beep beep beep. The radar showed everything quiet, no anomalies. The cockpit had LED lights and illuminated panels, so it was bright enough. Liu A'dou stared at the radar, thinking, 'Flying blind like this is really uncomfortable.' "All systems normal. Beginning Type-15 Space Guardian trial."
Whoosh! A burst from the thrusters sent the fighter rocketing forward at high speed. Once it reached speed, he shut off the engine immediately—because of the small fuel tank, you had to use inertia smartly in space.
Acceleration was fast. Then he tested maneuvers by firing thrusters from different ports, all programmed in advance. The pilot only had to control two joysticks and two pedals. The left pedal was for acceleration, right pedal for deceleration. The right joystick was vertical, the left one horizontal. The vertical stick controlled up and down, the horizontal stick handled left and right thrusters. It took perfect coordination of all four limbs to control the Type-15 well.
"Pressure's high during acceleration," Liu A'dou reported.
"That's because you're wearing a regular spacesuit. Once we get decompression suits, it'll get easier," An Rong's voice came through the comm. "Try more tactical maneuvers. See what moves the Type-15 can't handle."
"Roger that." Liu A'dou tapped his right foot, firing the front thruster to brake, then reversed thrust. A twist of both joysticks sent the Type-15 drifting backward in a Z-shaped evasive pattern. It was smooth.
The feeling was amazing. A man was born to command machines, to dominate oceans, land, and space. Piloting a craft was way more fun than wearing an Iron Man suit. Holding the control sticks gave that real sense of driving a machine.
Meanwhile, the Python squadron training nearby was heading his way.
Suddenly, Liu A'dou heard the urgent "beep beep" of the alarm, and clusters of bright dots appeared on the radar. These weren't space junk. The approaching dots moved in patterns—left, right, back and forth—clearly not random debris.
No cockpit really was a hassle—even just a camera would've helped. How was he supposed to make sense of these radar blips? "Radar detects 10, 20 unusual contacts ahead, approaching fast."
"What's going on?" An Rong thought, 'Could those be space fighters from another country?' "Evade and disguise yourself as a satellite."
"Understood." Liu A'dou immediately went silent.
Matthew also spotted unexpected blips on his radar. "Stay alert. These weren't here yesterday. Two points off the positive Z-axis—visual confirmation."
"Copy."
Liu A'dou saw the radar contacts getting closer. He closed his eyes and reached out with the Force, suddenly feeling a jolt of dread. Was the Force warning him of incoming danger? He calmed himself, switched off the radio, and hoped these contacts would just drift past quietly.
Matthew finally got eyes on it—a satellite. But why had it suddenly appeared? In theory, he knew the position of every satellite, even spy and military ones. He'd been flying in space for two years. "Eden, any new satellites launched?"
"Python One, there are no new satellites," the commander replied after a pause. This sudden satellite wasn't a good sign. And if it wasn't registered, it probably wasn't supposed to be there. Maybe it was time to give the boys some real practice and quietly remove this unknown threat. "Observe carefully. If there are no markings, destroy it immediately." Anything could happen in space, and who knew what it was doing there or how it might be destroyed later—America always played it dirty.
"Roger that," Matthew said, relieved they could finally use live ammo. "Second squad continues training. First squad, follow me."
But the radar contacts didn't move away. Instead, 10 of them broke off and formed a ring around the Type-15.
No identification signals, no flags, no markings. "Can't confirm their identity. Anyone see anything?"
"Nope," everyone answered in unison.
"Good. Unlock weapons and get ready to attack. Prepare the barrel formation."
"Copy." That was all they wanted to hear.
With Matthew in the lead, the 10 Python fighters spiraled in, locking onto their target, just waiting for the order to fire.
Liu A'dou realized he'd run into real bullies. On radar, the blips lined up, pulled back, and then swerved left and right like a hungry snake closing in. A chill ran down his spine. They'd already started shooting.
Without hesitation, Liu A'dou pushed the stick down. The Type-15 dove sharply, narrowly dodging the stream of gunfire. Barrel attack: a brutal maneuver where each trailing fighter replaces the lead, firing in continuous succession that doesn't stop until every fighter completes its run.
On radar, it looked like a writhing snake weaving through the space where the Type-15 had hovered.
"They moved? And fast," Matthew thought in shock. That wasn't a satellite at all—it was a space fighter just like the Pythons. That was his first thought.
"Eden, target evaded our attack. It dodged. That's not a satellite."
Impossible! The commander scowled. "Keep attacking." There was no better way to confirm if it was a satellite or a fighter.
"Copy," Matthew replied. "Reverse attack!"
All fighters pivoted in place, their formation's tail becoming the new head, charging straight at the target again.
"Coming back for more?" Liu A'dou thought, 'This is insane.' "Kunlun Mountain, I gave them the chance to take the first shot. Now it's my turn."
The general thought, 'How can we let pilots fly blind like this?' He said, "In the future, pilots must be able to see outside."
An Rong nodded. She'd thought space combat would be long-range sniping from far away, but clearly that was wrong. Everyone's tech just wasn't developed enough for battles from 800 miles out. "So what now?"
The general stroked his chin and decided. "We have no choice but to fight." In the shadows, no one could admit victory or defeat anyway. "Permission to engage granted."
Even without permission, Liu A'dou was already ready to strike back. He'd activated his Force precognition.