Chapter Nineteen: Because You Are Too Handsome

Chapter Nineteen: Because You’re Too Handsome

The immense energy unleashed by the doomsday weapon was still rippling through space, and under the force of this tremendous shockwave, even the level-five broodmother’s life came to an abrupt end. The Queen of Fengta herself likely wouldn’t survive such a blow for long, let alone a high-ranking broodmother.

Actually, the deployment of doomsday weapons was subject to strict regulations within the Allied Forces; only with headquarters’ authorization could such a weapon be fired. Yet, in the face of mortal danger, preserving one’s life took precedence over any future disciplinary action. Moreover, the firing of this weapon was by no means limitless. Its devastating power came from a rare mineral discovered in the Wasteland Starfield. Once refined to precise standards, these crystals could be converted into immense energy via the firing apparatus. The entire Bounty Corps possessed fewer than a hundred such crystals in total. The military held more, but even their reserves were limited.

As for Reagan, who had been lurking at a distance to watch the spectacle unfold, he was now thoroughly miserable. The reason was plain to see—half of his fleet was gone. The doomsday weapon was indiscriminate; it couldn’t distinguish friend from foe. If you happened to be within the blast radius alongside Reagan, there was nothing to be done but take the hit.

“Utterly helpless”—that was the truest reflection of Reagan’s state of mind. He had ordered the fleet to withdraw as soon as the energy fluctuation had been detected, but most of his ships hadn’t made it out of the danger zone in time. Only a handful of commanders had managed to escape. Half the starships were obliterated instantly.

“It’s over,” Liu Shaoyu murmured to himself, his tense expression finally relaxing into calm.

“Communication from headquarters.”

“Patch it through.”

Marshal Gary Barlow’s face appeared on the screen.

“A doomsday weapon discharge has been detected. I expect a satisfactory explanation,” Marshal Barlow said evenly, his expression unreadable.

“I will upload the combat footage.”

“Very well. I’ve just received a report from the Newt Squad, accusing you of intentionally destroying allied ships. Be prepared for an investigation,” the marshal continued, his expression now growing grave.

This news left Liu Shaoyu slightly stunned. Not only had he not seen them at all during the engagement—if he had, he certainly wouldn’t have targeted them.

“I cannot accept responsibility for this incident. I will investigate the specifics and present my findings to headquarters,” Liu Shaoyu replied after collecting his thoughts.

“I trust you will provide us with the same satisfactory answers as always. The fleet to relieve you has already been dispatched. Your achievements in this battle will be evaluated and summarized afterward, Captain Liu Shaoyu.” With those final words, the transmission ended.

With the battle concluded, the fleet’s logistics ships began on-site repairs to the damaged vessels, while the crew tallied combat data. After three continuous days of fighting, Liu Shaoyu was utterly exhausted. He gave the order to return to base and, without bothering to walk to his quarters, collapsed into his chair to rest.

He mulled over the consequences; the Newt Fleet’s accusation could have grave repercussions. Mishandling this could sow discord within the temporarily united Galactic Allied Forces.

“Thomas, analyze the data.”

As the combat data replayed, Liu Shaoyu gradually noticed a few subtle anomalies.

“Was this your doing?” The command center was quiet now, the crew having gone to rest; only Liu Shaoyu remained. His words were addressed, of course, to the ship’s computer—Thomas.

“It’s just that the discovery of the broodmother coincides precisely with that segment,” Thomas replied.

Thomas needed to access the combat command network to process the data, and a brief loop in the data readout just before the final lock-on to the broodmother aroused Liu Shaoyu’s suspicion.

“What does this repeated segment mean?”

“It was a calculation run to verify the data,” Thomas responded instantly.

Liu Shaoyu was speechless. He found it hard to believe that a computer would need to check its own calculations.

“Delete this segment, then upload the rest to headquarters,” Liu Shaoyu said coolly. With the deletion, that segment vanished from the database forever, beyond even the reach of the Federation’s computers.

Lately, Thomas’s odd behavior had piqued Liu Shaoyu’s curiosity; it seemed his computer harbored secrets he knew nothing about.

Indeed, there was something odd about the doomsday weapon incident that entangled the Newt Fleet. If not for that repeated data sequence, the blast would never have impacted them.

The recent engagement had cost Liu Shaoyu’s fleet dearly. As they were not a Federal military unit, they couldn’t receive direct logistical support from the military; the Bounty Corps’ own logistics were slower to respond. For now, Liu Shaoyu was unable to return to the front lines. He took the opportunity to rest—and to address the matter with the Newt Fleet.

The Allied Forces’ command soon issued a final verdict based on the battle data. Liu Shaoyu received a severe warning for friendly fire, noting the egregious impact of the incident. After deliberation by—well, not the school board, but the military leadership—he was ordered to submit a written report of self-examination.

Reagan, having lost half his fleet, was predictably furious and demanded to appeal to a military tribunal. But the matter was quickly suppressed from within. After all, who would want to make their own house’s scandal public? If you have no shame, your superiors still do. Consequently, not only did Reagan’s fleet receive disciplinary action for failing to reach the designated position on time, but they were also pulled from the vanguard and returned to their old role—logistics.

Poor Reagan, barely a year out of logistics, was now back to his old occupation.

Before leaving, his eyes blazing with anger, Reagan confronted Liu Shaoyu, who happened to be passing by. “Why?”

Liu Shaoyu merely gave him a graceful view of his back and replied, “Perhaps it’s because you’re too handsome.” With that, he drifted away, a picture of nonchalance. The word “elegant” was hardly sufficient.

All Reagan could do was stomp his feet and shout after the receding Liu Shaoyu, “I’ll be back…”

Peaceful days are always fleeting. Two days later, Liu Shaoyu’s fleet finally received logistical resupply, and was soon ordered to the front once more. Thanks to his previous campaign, the reinforcements of soldier-bugs streaming through the Stargate had been cut off, and the remaining soldier-bugs in the rear were quickly exterminated.

By now, the Federation fleet had completed its basic occupation of the Fengta Star System. The once-mighty Fengta now held sway over just one hundred and three star systems, plus the home system, Quanofkendo.

Even now, the supreme ruler of Fengta, Queen Yekaterina Alexeyevna, had only been glimpsed fleetingly on the battlefield—if at all. This wasn’t lost on Marshal Gary Barlow, nor did it escape the notice of the entire Galactic Allied Forces, who were increasingly puzzled.

The result was that, faced with these remaining one hundred and four star systems, the Galactic Allies slowed their advance, choosing to consolidate their gains, hunt down the remaining soldier-bugs, and begin constructing military fortresses.

Fengta, for its part, engaged in a kind of cosmic tai chi, neither advancing nor retreating, trading blows with the Allies at arm’s length.

Everyone wondered: What were they really plotting? Swarms of reconnaissance drones were dispatched into the remaining Fengta systems, but without exception, they were destroyed at the borders of the central fifty-four systems.

Apart from the fleet guarding the Stargate, all remaining Earth Federation forces were assigned to embed foundation nodes in newly designated star systems for the Federation’s central computer. Even Liu Shaoyu, as a member of the Bounty Corps, was sent to lay these nodes under the guise of a “bounty mission”—a thinly veiled order, really, with the military footing a “reward” for appearances’ sake.

Hovering his starship above a planet, Liu Shaoyu directed the deployment of the node-building robots. His ship was now a battleship-transport hybrid, its cavernous cargo holds packed with the densely arrayed construction machines.

This class of battleship freighter had been developed by Universal Galactic Technologies. Its main axis stretched two kilometers in length. With heavy armor and advanced weapons, it balanced offense and defense admirably. However, its electronic and shield systems remained notably limited. To compensate for these weak shields, armor plating from Fengta broodmother warships had been incorporated, granting these freighters a distinctly insectoid appearance.

“That’s the fifth one,” Liu Shaoyu mused as another robot was dispatched. Depending on the planet’s size, each robot required ten to twenty hours to construct a node. For larger worlds, more robots could be sent to hasten the process, but their high cost limited their numbers. For most medium-sized planets, one robot sufficed.

“It’s just a matter of time,” Liu Shaoyu sighed. He had no complaints; this brief respite from the front was rare, though it was still wartime. He could only pass the hours in the command room, reading.

Today, however, one of the robots seemed to have discovered something unusual.