Seeing Fisher so cooperative, the colonel felt like he was punching cotton—all strength with nowhere to land. And with Fisher constantly mentioning Kilimanjaro, the colonel felt as uncomfortable as if he'd swallowed a fly.
Kilimanjaro Military Academy was a multi-disciplinary military school established on Mount Kilimanjaro in the early days of the Solar System Alliance. It trained many space officers, and even many officers from the Martian Colonial Army, who had not yet rebelled at the time, graduated from there. General Saren Kouchi also studied there when he was young. Fisher's emphasis on Kilimanjaro meant that he and Saren Kouchi were alumni, implying that Saren Kouchi would warmly greet him as a junior student. If they ever met and Fisher complained, the General wouldn't care if his ace pilot ended up scrubbing decks or cleaning toilets.
"Alright, lead the team back to the dorms. The fighters are still in transit. Gather at 0600 tomorrow morning for adaptive training!" The colonel, who had wanted to make a point but couldn't, lost interest in setting rules. He waved his hand, dismissing everyone to leave the hangar.
"Well then, Colonel, see you tomorrow!" Fisher enthusiastically stepped forward and extended his right hand.
"What a terrible habit!" Although he grumbled, the colonel still extended his hand. As they shook, the colonel subconsciously looked at Fisher's face.
"Have a pleasant day!" The flames in Fisher's pupils reappeared. The colonel froze for two seconds. By the time he reacted again, Fisher had already led the others away.
"Strange, what was I just doing?"
..."Phew!" Fisher removed his helmet, wiping the sweat from his head. Thought manipulation was a very psionic-intensive task, especially for these long-serving soldiers. Although their recent eye contact lasted only two seconds, it still consumed a lot of Fisher's energy. The steam and sweat rising from his head meant his combat suit's thermoregulation system couldn't dissipate the heat fast enough. However, his goal had been achieved. While his mind control couldn't yet make the other party completely subservient, the other party would prioritize Fisher's needs in whatever they did. Fisher could also make requests that wouldn't cause strong resistance.
After returning to his assigned dorm, Fisher kicked IR15 into the living room's hibernation pod to charge, then sat at the table, examining the energy pistol he had just received.
It must be said that with the advancement of technology, weapons always remain at the forefront of the times. Take the EMC pistol in Fisher's hand, for example. It's only about the size of Fisher's palm, yet its energy magazine can support 12 shots. Furthermore, if you don't completely deplete the energy, the magazine can slowly regenerate power. And this personal self-defense pistol has a maximum range of almost two hundred meters.
When collecting weapons, Fisher specifically asked for two extra pistols and a pile of magazines. His excuse was that he liked using dual pistols when he studied on Earth, and the armory manager didn't ask any further questions. If it weren't for the fact that long guns couldn't be carried outdoors on Mars, Fisher would have definitely asked for a Volk, which was known as the future version of the AK.
"Hmm, I'll get some weapon samples first. For the aircraft, prioritize the engine and fire control radar. I just don't know when I can get on a ship. Warp drive, oh, right!" Fisher smacked his head suddenly. He had forgotten the most important thing, "Artificial gravity system!" You see, Mars' gravity is only one-third that of Earth. If a person gently bounced on it, they could jump a great distance. But Fisher had been in this world for three days and hadn't felt anything, just like being on Earth. This was all thanks to artificial gravity. And for Fisher, the artificial gravity system was even more crucial for the Colossus's deep space exploration plan.
"If I want to make a big splash, I don't have enough manpower!" Fisher said, looking at the IR15 in hibernation. He regretted not learning any hacking skills. Otherwise, if he hacked this robot and then hacked the row of C6s on the charging rack in the corridor outside, a few dozen robots causing a little chaos would allow him to fish in troubled waters.
But the problem was he knew nothing about this, so the robot riot plan had to be passed on.
However, Fisher didn't give up hope. The ace pilot colonel he had just met during the day had already been subtly influenced by him. Now, he just needed to make a little effort every day, and in less than two weeks, the colonel would become his close friend, the kind who would take the blame for him. Thinking of this, Fisher couldn't help but let out a lewd laugh... Antonio Scali, that was the ace pilot's name. Born on Mars, he naturally harbored a hatred for Earth. Therefore, when he saw others going to Earth to study or for business trips, he would become extremely angry. These bastards, is Earth's air fragrant? Why do they all run to Earth? Our Martian technology is the most advanced. You are openly betraying us!
Especially when he learned that he was responsible for the recuperative training of this batch of air force officers transferred to the Eighth Fleet, he was utterly dejected. But remembering Saren Kouchi's entrustment, the colonel could only sigh silently.
To suppress the Earth fleet, the Martian Eighth Fleet had been constantly expanding. Although Martian military factories had plenty of warships, trained sailors and pilots were always in short supply. Take Saren Kouchi's Mount Olympus, for example: the warship's full complement was 6,300 people, but currently, there were only 2,700 human crew members; the remaining vacancies were filled by C6s. Its hangar should have been fully loaded with a wing of thirty Hurricane fighters (six spares), but now only one squadron was in place, and another squadron was waiting for pilots.
To fill these vacancies, Saren Kouchi even squeezed the last bit of Martian manpower. Adult males were all serving in the military, women were in production camps, and children were either in military academies or on the firing range. What about the elderly, you ask? Mars operated 007, working 24/7, so the elderly generally didn't live past 60.
Therefore, the Eighth Fleet placed great importance on this group of people transferred from the home fleet. Perhaps some of these individuals had issues, but at least they were all qualified soldiers.
As soon as he thought of his great mission to lead the rise of Mars, Antonio was immediately filled with confidence.
However, his confidence and fighting spirit were once again disrupted by Fisher the next morning, sent ten thousand miles away.
"Ah, the Colonel is here, quickly, fall in!" Before Antonio could react, Fisher was already saluting him, requesting instructions.
"Uh!" Antonio looked into Fisher's eyes, which seemed like a black hole, sucking him in...
"Colonel! Colonel!" A soft call woke Antonio from his daze.
"What, what happened?"
"Today's training has concluded!"
"Oh, oh, then dismiss! You've worked hard!" Looking at Fisher, who was sweating and holding his flight helmet, Antonio suddenly felt the other person's figure grow taller, like a revered hero from legends.
"Alright, thank you!" Fisher extended his hand again, meeting his gaze.
One day, two days, three days—by two weeks later, Antonio had become an incredibly fervent follower. Even if Fisher told him to jump naked from Mars' Grand Canyon, he wouldn't hesitate. Not only Antonio, but even the other officers training with Fisher had been influenced by him to a similar extent.
"I feel like if I went to Rome, the Pope would lose his job!" Fisher was also astonished by the power of his psionics. He didn't dare use it during his time in Marvel, at most just a little during shareholder meetings and grassroots inspections, to make shareholders shut up and wait for their dividends, or to make his subordinates shout a few flashy slogans.
"Boss, the fleet command's orders have arrived!" Just as Fisher was contemplating whether to go to Hollywood to try out his psionics on some actresses, Antonio respectfully handed him a PDA.
"What is it?" Taking the PDA, Fisher saw an order to end the training early and for all personnel to await assignment.
"The Mount Olympus has entered port!" Antonio silently pointed upwards.
Fisher hurriedly grabbed his helmet and rushed out of the hangar door, looking up at the sky. Next to the orbital dry dock suspended high in the firmament, a gigantic warship, shaped like a U-shaped magnet, had appeared at some point.
That was the flagship of the Martian Eighth Fleet, the Mount Olympus.
"Length 927 meters, height 151 meters, 128 centimeters of titanium alloy armor!" Looking at the colossal starship, Fisher's face was filled with longing.
"Boss, what do we do now?" Antonio also followed him out.
"First, clear out the hangar! Then prepare to board the ship!" Fisher had already suppressed his desire for the massive warship, turning and running back to the hangar. Adhering to the tradition of thieves not leaving empty-handed, he stuffed all the repair equipment, power supplies, repair robots, and everything else he could carry from the hangar into his subspace. It was fortunate that his constant use of psionics during this period had greatly enhanced his strength, allowing him to take all these devices. However, the Hurricane fighter was still too large for him. Even with Fisher's face turning pale from exertion, he couldn't fit the thing in. In the end, he could only have a group of repair robots and pilots dismantle a Hurricane fighter, taking away its engine, radar, and weapon systems before giving up.
"Damn it, I'm exhausted!" After chugging a few bottles of nasty nutrient solution, Fisher finally felt a bit better. However, he also discovered some patterns about his power: after continuously overusing it like this, the total amount of psionic energy would grow ceaselessly, and the recovery speed of the Star Beacon's light was also much faster than before.
"If I were strong enough, dragging a warship in wouldn't be a problem, sigh, I'm so annoyed, why didn't I train earlier!" Realizing this, Fisher could only stomp his feet in frustration, looking at the sky full of warships.
Wuwuwu, school finally starts tomorrow, but I don't want to go again.