Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C63

Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

The mangled remains of a Manticore tank, its chassis torn open by an electronic mine, lay beside a Porcupine armored vehicle with a gaping hole in its undercarriage. Above, a Skyfire shuttle wobbled precariously, moments from crashing. Corpses were scattered everywhere—some sprawled on their backs, others face-down, lifeless and cold.

Under the darkened sky, the flashes of gunfire and artillery were the only dominant hues. A symphony of blood and fire played as the battlefield's nocturnal requiem. At this moment, the bodies drained of blood mirrored the frigid earth of Planet Namie.

A drone fighter was struck by anti-aircraft fire, its burning frame spiraling out of the sky before crashing into the enemy’s minefield, exploding into a rolling inferno of molten debris.

The Manticore tank continued firing relentlessly, its barrel glowing red-hot and slightly deformed from the relentless barrage. Shells landed within the enemy’s position, kicking up waves of sand like a stormy sea.

The enemy’s counterattack came swiftly—bullets, grenades, rockets, and even railgun projectiles swept across the front lines, scattering rocks and claiming the lives of unlucky soldiers caught in their path.

Lieutenant Marshall Quirk crouched in the trench, leaning against a modified Porcupine III command vehicle, lost in thought. Every time a shell streaked across the night sky and exploded in a flash of light, he instinctively flinched.

Who knew whether one of those errant shells might land on his head next?

Over the course of three days, he had witnessed scenes straight out of a nightmare. The third mechanized infantry battalion of the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division, which he had previously served in, had numbered 115 men. Now, only he remained alive—all the others were dead.

On the first day of the battle, the "Silverwing" special operations battalion had been surrounded by units of the 3789th Division, suffering heavy losses. Division Commander Wilder Lester ordered the third brigade’s first battalion to cross the equator and rescue the "Silverwing." But Francis, that cunning fox, used a strategy of besieging a point while ambushing reinforcements, trapping the third brigade’s first battalion in the north.

Wilder Lester, the commander of the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division, was no ordinary opponent. He ordered the second brigade’s first and second battalions to reinforce the eastern front, pressuring the 3789th Division while simultaneously detaching two battalions from the first brigade to bypass the acidic vapor zone and approach the enemy’s rear logistics base from the west, creating a pincer movement to relieve pressure on the front lines and rescue the "Silverwing" and the trapped battalion.

Francis saw through Wilder Lester’s plan, refusing to let go of his prey. He ordered the third brigade to engage in positional warfare to hold the eastern front while sending the second brigade’s third battalion and the division’s reconnaissance unit southwest to intercept the two battalions from the first brigade.

By now, the battle had lasted for one full day and night on Planet Namie—32 hours.

Francis believed he had unraveled all of the enemy’s plans, unaware that everything was part of a larger deception. Wilder Lester had used the "Silverwing" special operations battalion and the third brigade’s first battalion as bait to draw Francis’s attention while secretly deploying the "Silver Tempest" special missile battalion and anti-aircraft artillery battalion to the front lines to launch long-range missile strikes on the seemingly stagnant eastern front.

Francis never anticipated that the main offensive would shift to the eastern front, resulting in heavy casualties for the third brigade, who were forced to retreat step by step. In this dire situation, he had no choice but to divert part of the first armored brigade’s forces, which had been pinning down the "Silverwing" and the third brigade’s first battalion, to reinforce the eastern front. Simultaneously, he launched his long-planned ace in the hole—"Operation Shadow."

For some time, the "Silver Tempest" and "Silverwing" special battalions of the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division had been the primary targets of Francis’s focus. Multi-module quantum radar surveillance networks, periodic releases of fluorescent spray into the air, and dense anti-aircraft fire covering the supply lines to the front—all these measures were designed to counter the "Silverwing" and "Silver Tempest."

While the "Silverwing" special infantry battalion struggled at the front, the "Silver Tempest" was deployed to provide powerful attack support for the Sulru Empire’s forces on the eastern front, inflicting heavy losses on the 3789th Division’s third armored brigade and forcing their defensive line to retreat repeatedly. War was no child’s play, especially in positional defense battles where every move affected the whole. The domino effect of the eastern front’s collapse opened a gap in the defensive line. The enemy’s second infantry brigade became a dagger thrust into Francis’s heart, with the "Silver Tempest" missiles acting as the blood grooves on the blade, threatening his survival at every moment.

To counter the worsening situation, Francis activated the long-planned "Operation Shadow." At the start of the battle, the fourth battalion of the first brigade and the division’s covert mobile unit, which had been lying low near the South Pole, launched a surprise attack on the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division’s rear logistics base.

When Wilder Lester, anticipating the enemy’s moves, calmly ordered the division’s guard unit to snipe the incoming assault using advantageous terrain, something unexpected happened. A small contingent of the 3789th Division’s soldiers moved north along the eastern route, directly launching a surprise attack on the rear of the "Silver Tempest" special missile battalion. Using microwave bombs and high-explosive charges, they nearly paralyzed the battalion’s missile attack capabilities.

Wilder Lester never expected the enemy to use such a drastic countermeasure, dealing him a severe blow. With the "Silver Tempest" crippled, the eastern front’s situation was bound to be affected. Left with no choice, he ordered the withdrawal of forces feigning a pincer movement in the west while coordinating with the aviation combat department to launch a pincer attack on the enemy forces surrounding the "Silverwing" and the third brigade’s first battalion, successfully rescuing the "bait."

The strategic contest between Francis and Wilder was akin to a chess match between masters. While the overall situation slightly favored the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division due to their gains on the eastern front, they were overextended. If Francis committed the forces withdrawn from the front and the west to the eastern battlefield, the outcome remained uncertain.

By this point, the fighting had lasted for two full days and nights. With both sides evenly matched in strength and their commanders equally cunning, the tense stalemate was set to continue indefinitely—until one side made an irreparable mistake.

However, an unexpected event occurred on the third morning. Reconnaissance satellite data caught Francis’s attention: the concentration of acidic vapor enveloping Planet Namie’s surface was rapidly decreasing, and visibility in the acidic vapor zones was steadily improving.

Simultaneously, a similar discovery was made at the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division’s headquarters.

Both sides quickly relayed this information to the fleet command center orbiting the planet, receiving identical responses: maintain the current battle intensity while closely monitoring changes in the acidic vapor zones.

An hour after the order was issued, reconnaissance satellites transmitted an image that left both Francis and Wilder stunned—a massive diamond-shaped structure stood proudly in an acidic vapor zone 300 kilometers west of the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division’s forward positions.

The Epsilon Ruins.

Without delay, both sides reported this startling discovery to the fleet command center.

This news was like pouring cold water into hot oil, immediately causing an uproar. The Sulru Empire’s Saint Violet Fleet began mobilizing, while the Thunder Fleet shifted to a combat-ready posture.

When the first transport ship of the Saint Violet Fleet, carrying an army battalion, approached Planet Namie, space combat erupted. Transport ships loaded with reinforcements broke through the orbital blockade, heading toward the planet.

At the same time, the ground war took a new turn. Four battalions from both sides’ western fronts raced toward the ruins. Logically, since the ruins were in the southern hemisphere, the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division should have had the advantage. However, the fourth battalion of the 3789th Division’s first brigade, retreating under Francis’s orders, took a western route directly toward the Epsilon Ruins, encountering and engaging the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division’s reserve forces.

Subsequently, four more battalions from both sides’ western fronts arrived, further escalating the conflict and opening a second battlefield.

With aerial support arriving, Monya Empire transport ships, forced to evade enemy anti-aircraft fire while rushing to support the second battlefield around the ruins, had no choice but to designate drop zones near the equator.

Unwilling to see the favorable situation shift due to enemy reinforcements, Wilder ordered the battered remnants of the "Silverwing" and the third brigade’s first battalion to regroup briefly before rejoining the eastern front to continue pressuring the enemy’s logistics base. Simultaneously, he coordinated with the transport ships, instructing them to land near the equator to ambush subsequent enemy reinforcements, thus forming a third battlefield near the equator.

Transport ships from space continued ferrying troops to various battlefields on Planet Namie. More and more marines joined the race to control the ruins, and the scale of the war grew like a snowball.

Wilder was no fool; quite the opposite. Through the series of engagements, he astutely identified a key issue. No matter how dire the situation on the second and third battlefields appeared for the Monya Empire forces, Francis steadfastly maintained stability on the eastern front, never committing all his forces to the other fronts.

During a brief rest, a sudden realization struck Wilder. Unless there were two ruins on Planet Namie, with one already under Monya Empire control, Francis’s calm demeanor made no sense.

After reporting this hypothesis to the military command, staff officers analyzed the number of research vessels in the Thunder Fleet’s rear and the frequency of information exchanges between the 3789th Division’s ground forces and the Thunder Fleet’s flagship, confirming Wilder’s suspicions.

Enraged at being outmaneuvered by Prince Walker Stuart, the furious crown prince ordered Wilder to eliminate the 3789th Division—the thorn in his side—at any cost.

Thus, the ground war on Planet Namie evolved into its current state: three major battlefields, each resembling a bloody meat grinder. Nearly every hour, dozens, if not hundreds, of soldiers perished.

…

Marshall pulled out the pendant hanging from his neck, wiped off the dust, and gently flipped it open. Inside was an old photograph: a middle-aged couple standing behind a teenage boy, their faces radiating happiness.

He slowly closed the pendant, kissed it lightly, and looked up at the night sky.

Without atmospheric interference, the stars shimmered like neon lights. The Milky Way’s glow stretched across the heavens like tidal waves under the moonlight, softly rippling toward the northern horizon.

This should have been a scene of peace and tranquility. Yet, the bursts of light in the sky—symbols of death and destruction—stood out like graffiti on a pristine wall, jarringly out of place.

A shadow flashed, and a figure leapt into the trench. He surveyed the chaotic buffer zone ahead and sat down beside the half-buried command vehicle.

Marshall glanced at the identification number on the soldier’s powered armor and sighed softly. “Wilson, do you think we’ll make it back alive?”

After three sleepless nights, the physical exhaustion and mental fatigue weighed on him like twin mountains, nearly suffocating him. Making it back alive? It felt as distant and unreal as dawn’s first light, yet it stirred a faint hope within him.

Wilson said nothing. The communicator carried only his labored breathing, reminiscent of a survivor in a horror film.

Marshall paid no mind to his silence. Under these circumstances, who could muster the energy for idle chatter?

A tremor shook the ground behind them, and sand and pebbles rained down like hail onto their helmets.

Marshall sighed. Only the fixed orbital cannons outside the 3789th Division’s logistics base could cause such devastation. The enemy had spared no expense in fortifying their defenses. In the southern 5-kilometer zone alone, six fixed orbital cannons, ten 120mm rapid-fire cannon turrets, fifteen 30mm machine gun bunkers, eight groups of 90mm automatic anti-aircraft guns, six surface-to-air missile launchers, and various laser anti-missile systems, heat-seeking missile launchers, and stealth aerial mines formed a formidable defense network.

Not to mention the trenches, roadblocks, and minefields extending 30 kilometers south of the base walls, reinforced by armored units. Breaking through such defenses in a short time was nothing short of a pipe dream.

“Captain, Captain… We’re under attack! The enemy—they’re… Ah…”

“Damn it, what the hell is this? Ah…”

“Where are the armored vehicles? Where are the armored vehicles?”

“Quick, quick, cover the wounded retreat…”

“Enemy attack, enemy attack!”

The communicator was a cacophony of shouts and screams. Marshall froze, instinctively turning to look at the 3789th Division’s defensive line. The frontline trenches and buffer zone were eerily silent, save for occasional flashes of light—mere intimidation tactics.

If it wasn’t the frontlines, then where?

Marshall pressed himself as close to the cover as possible to avoid the dreaded snipers. When he turned to look at the rear of their own position, a surreal scene unfolded before his eyes. Bullets pierced the night sky, crisscrossing in dense patterns of light. Explosions erupted continuously, casting blinding flashes across the battlefield. The chaotic shouting echoed in his ears like a film reel stuck in a loop—rewinding, replaying, rewinding again, endlessly flashing before his eyes.

Please vote for this novel at

https://www.novelupdates.com/series/carrying-the-bases-of-starcraft/

If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.

Tier 1: 5 Advance chapters

Access fee $3.00 Monthly