Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C25

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Two hundred years ago, a revolutionary invention—the warp engine—ushered humanity from Earth's civilization into an interstellar era. Atmospheric modification systems and rapidly advancing aerospace engineering acted as powerful catalysts for humanity's colonization of the cosmos. However, humans were still Earth-bound creatures, and adapting to alien environments posed countless challenges. Among these was the harsh working conditions of space and planetary surfaces.

Cosmic radiation, lethal elements, particle storms—all these threats made survival precarious for fragile human bodies. To overcome this obstacle, the Federal Government at the time invested heavily in protective gear and automated machinery. Meanwhile, large corporate conglomerates pursued a more radical path, secretly delving into genetic engineering and biotechnology, seeking to fundamentally solve the problem by altering biology itself.

One such organization was the infamous "Morris Industrial Federation," led by Morris Griffin. He purchased several remote star systems from the government and hired a legion of scientists specializing in bio-genetics to conduct his experiments. After over a decade of research, using artificial induction and experimental drugs, they achieved limited success with cloned organisms that could survive in hostile cosmic environments with minimal protection.

However, this genetic mutation came at a steep price. Enhanced resistance was traded for hyper-accelerated metabolism, drastically reducing their lifespans to just 25 years—only a fifth of the average human lifespan—and leaving them with severely diminished intelligence, their IQ levels less than half of normal humans.

To Morris Griffin, these defects were inconsequential. As long as his creations generated profits, nothing else mattered. Compared to the exorbitant cost of the Federation's automated machinery, these genetically modified workers were cheap labor and favored by resource-starved mining operations across the galaxy, allowing Morris Griffin to rake in huge profits.

Eventually, this inhumane research was discovered by the Federal Government. Enraged, they mobilized a joint fleet to eradicate Morris’s empire with overwhelming force, uprooting his power completely. Since the operation began on December 25th of the Earth calendar, it was later mockingly referred to by some as "Morris's Christmas."

Much of the data was destroyed, while the rest was sealed away. Morris Griffin himself was sentenced to cryogenic exile for crimes against humanity. As for the billions of genetically modified individuals, out of humanitarian considerations, the Federation designated several resource-rich planets for them to inhabit, allowing them to live self-sufficiently.

Fifty years later, with unprecedented advancements in aerospace technology and heavy industry, humanity's colonization of the universe accelerated at a breakneck pace. As territories expanded, various industrial conglomerates and corporate organizations saw their military might grow rapidly. Conflicts and tensions over resource-rich planets and developmental space intensified, eventually spilling over into the political arena of the Federation.

Due to the unequal distribution of resources and longstanding ideological divisions, the once-mighty Earth Federation collapsed in a catastrophic downfall. Countless factions, both large and small, rose to seize the opportunity, ushering in an era of warlords and territorial fragmentation under the banner of interstellar civilization.

The roar of starships echoed through the void, and the stars themselves seemed to tremble. The demands of various factions for control over their claimed planets and economic zones remained insatiable, and inevitably, the flames of war spread to every corner of the galaxies.

Amidst the chaos, the genetically modified humans protected by the Federation could not remain untouched. Due to their physical resilience—each being two to three times stronger than an ordinary human—they became cannon fodder for ruthless factions desperate for soldiers. For decades, wars raged across the stars until new empires and federations rose from the ashes. By then, the genetically modified humans had scattered across the universe, earning a new name: the Morris Slaves.

……

"Hey, Tang Fang, snap out of it. This is not the time for daydreaming."

A distant voice interrupted his thoughts. Looking up, he saw Arroz and Housen approaching side by side.

"Did you take care of the two at the launch control console?"

Housen grinned, baring his teeth. "Of course."

Tang Fang nodded but couldn't help frowning when he noticed Arroz lighting yet another cigar. Did the man have no fear of nicotine poisoning?

Before Tang Fang could dwell further, Byron appeared with Zhou Ai and Eva in tow, emerging from a nearby elliptical building. Both women wore bulky cyan power armor, its pneumatic hisses and creaking plates echoing with every step. Byron, however, remained lightly equipped, though he now carried a K-101 Avalanche heavy sniper rifle instead of his usual automatic weapon.

Byron bypassed Tang Fang entirely, addressing Housen and Arroz directly. "There are some heavy weapons left in the armory. Do either of you want to reequip?"

"No need," Arroz replied curtly, while Housen shrugged indifferently.

"Let's move," Tang Fang said, taking a deep breath as he headed toward the southern sector. During his confrontation with Wei Haitao, an idea had struck him.

...

Thud, thud. Another security gate collapsed under relentless assault. Ten zerglings surged past the camera feed, swarming down the corridor. On the opposite end, a line of soldiers clad in power armor retreated while firing back.

Though their reinforced suits granted them superior survivability, it did little to turn the tide. In the confined spaces of the base, casualties mounted—but the casualty ratio had improved slightly, dropping from 10:1 to 3:1. Still, it took the lives of three soldiers to eliminate a single alien bug.

Humanity’s transition to interstellar civilization was barely two centuries old, and their so-called power armor was merely an evolution of spacesuits designed to adapt soldiers to various planetary environments. Compared to the nuclear-powered Marine armor from StarCraft, these suits lagged far behind in protection, life support, mobility, firepower, and auxiliary functions. Thus, the current casualty rate was unsurprising.

In just half an hour, only thirteen soldiers remained from the first platoon. Combined, the fourth and fifth platoons had fewer than eight survivors. Kraftmann stared blankly at the combat data streaming onto the monitor. Nearly a hundred soldiers had been reduced to twenty, and all they’d gained were ten corpses of alien bugs. How could he possibly accept this?

Was abandoning the base the only option? But how would he explain this failure to his superiors?

Bam, bam.

As Kraftmann hesitated, a sudden crash echoed from the ventilation shaft above. A twisted metal panel clattered to the floor, and an alien bug leapt down, its powerful hind legs snapping the panel in two.

"Ahh…”

“How, how can this be!"

Screams erupted from the female officers, and panic swept through the command center. The alien bug raised its head, emitting a shrill screech before pouncing on a nearby female officer. Its claws tore through her uniform, piercing her chest with horrifying precision. Blood sprayed everywhere, staining her white shirt crimson.

Another alien bug dropped from the vent, sending shockwaves of terror through the room. When the young female officer’s blood splattered across their faces, reality hit hard. Fear exploded among the staff.

"Run! Run!" someone shouted. The internal affairs officer stumbled toward the exit, followed by a stampede of female officers fleeing the chaos.

"Commander, go! We'll hold them off!" Two guards fired wildly at the alien bugs, their bullets ricocheting harmlessly off the creatures' armored hides.

"They’re intelligent? They know how to use the ventilation system?" Kraftmann shuddered, overwhelmed by despair. "Communications Officer, tell the overseer in the eastern sector to evacuate the researchers to the northern silo immediately!"

With that, he grabbed an automatic rifle and bolted out of the command center, heading down a deserted corridor. The southern sector had fallen, the central command system was crippled, and the defense effort was doomed. All he could do now was minimize losses and salvage whatever research data remained.

The data center was close by, untouched by the fighting thus far. Kraftmann quickly entered the security code, opened the door, and rushed to the mainframe. Retrieving the data should have been the researchers’ job, but in this chaotic situation, it fell to him.

Setting aside his rifle, he switched the terminal to manual mode and began entering commands to compress the files. Suddenly, a noise from above caught his attention. The ventilation cover fell, and another alien bug landed with a thud, its malevolent gaze locking onto Kraftmann. In the next second, it let out a guttural roar and lunged forward.

Kraftmann scrambled for his rifle, firing wildly. Bullets struck the creature’s scales, producing dull thuds—but nothing stopped its advance. In an instant, the alien bug’s claws pierced his shoulder blade, eliciting a scream of agony. Blood gushed forth as waves of pain crashed over him, cold sweat pouring down his face. At last, he understood the true horror of these creatures.

"Gah..." The alien bug opened its jaws, a sinister sound emanating from its throat.

Kraftmann closed his eyes, bracing for death. But just then, two low gunshots rang out from the doorway, followed by the alien bug’s pained shriek. A spray of blood erupted from his wound as he forced his eyes open. The creature withdrew its claws and fled toward the exit, pursued by more gunfire.

"Commander, Commander..."

A voice called out, accompanied by a cooling sensation on his wound. Kraftmann blinked groggily, surveying his surroundings. To his astonishment, the person who had saved him was none other than Tang Fang—the same man he’d imprisoned.

"You’re alive?"

"We can talk about that later," Tang Fang interrupted, helping him up. "The base is lost. We need to retreat. How’s your wound?"

Kraftmann glanced at the medical gel applied to his wound and nodded gratefully. "It feels better, thank you."

"Arroz, Housen, clear the way ahead. Let’s head north."

Just as Tang Fang’s group prepared to leave, Kraftmann reached out, pointing to the central computer. "Wait! There’s critical research data stored here. My arm is injured—I can’t retrieve it myself. Please help me."

"Is your life or the data more important?" Housen sneered sarcastically, pretending to lecture him. Zhou Ai and Byron exchanged amused glances; everyone knew Housen was joking. To Tang Fang, those terrifying alien bugs were as docile as house pets.

Ignoring the banter, Tang Fang approached the mainframe, inputting the password Kraftmann provided. Gaining administrative access, he began extracting the data. The database contained extensive information on Planet 5’s atmosphere, geological structure, elemental composition, soil content, and more. Compressing the files alone took ten minutes.

After transferring the compressed data to a portable PDA, Tang Fang searched for classified S-level projects. Suddenly, a cold, emotionless voice echoed in his mind:

[Usable data detected. Initiating the diagnostic program...

[Diagnostics complete. Compatible race confirmed: Terran."

[Activating Terran base."

[Parsing data..."

[Engineering Level E+. Research tree unlocked. Technology Level 1. Structures unlocked: 'Supply Depot,' 'Barracks.']