Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C65

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What kind of arm was that? At the end of its slender limb were three prong-like claws, sharp and menacing. Between the fingers, streaks of blood ran thick, and part of the captain’s stomach still clung grotesquely to the back of the hand. Amidst the horrifying redness, a smear of vibrant yellow peeked through—a remnant of dinner, perhaps a slice of cheesecake.

“Die, you monster!” Marshall screamed as he pulled the trigger repeatedly, firing wildly to quell the terror clawing at his chest.

Bullets ricocheted off rows of electronic devices. Explosions lit up the compartment, sparks flying everywhere.

Hiss, hiss… A strange wailing sound reverberated in Marshall’s mind.

“Wilson’s” body began to twist and contort. His face shifted, morphing into a ghastly visage covered in pus-filled sores. Grayish, viscous fluid oozed from him; one side retained human form, while the other dissolved into a bloody, amorphous mass. If words could describe this abomination, it would be as though someone had been thrown into a meat grinder—half human, half nauseating pulp.

Hiss, hiss… The eerie noise continued to echo in his mind. Marshall kept pulling the trigger until the barrel went silent, the dull click of an empty chamber reverberating along the gun’s frame. Only then did he realize he’d exhausted an entire magazine.

By now, the creature bore no resemblance to anything remotely human. Its slimy body writhed and twisted on the floor, struggling but refusing to die.

“How is this even possible?” Marshall felt his scalp prickle. He glanced at Claude’s lifeless corpse, dropped his rifle, and bolted out of the command vehicle. With every ounce of speed he could muster, he sprinted toward the headquarters of the Third Reserve Battalion.

......

Similar scenes played out repeatedly across the battlefield. Within twenty minutes, not a single living soul remained on the Sulru Empire’s frontline positions.

Of the reinforced company of 296 men, 86 had already fallen earlier in the fight, and another 102 bodies lay scattered across the field. Casualties amounted to 63%, not counting the losses of Skyfire shuttles, Warthog anti-armor vehicles, and Jackal tanks.

On Tang Fang’s side, the toll was minimal: one marine riddled with 23mm cannon fire, one marauder whose leg was blown off by an anti-tank missile, four zerglings, and a crippled roach with its abdomen torn open. If one factored in the Queen’s “Nourishing Fluid” ability, the true losses might have been just one machine gunner and four zerglings—a negligible cost compared to the devastation inflicted upon the Sulru forces.

......

At the forward position of the Monya Empire’s army, Captain Graham Anderson lowered his MINI high-powered electronic binoculars. Mechanically turning to Lieutenant James beside him, he asked, “James, did you see that? Did you see it? It’s nothing short of a miracle—a divine blessing from our Heavenly Father.”

Could it really be over for the second reinforced company under the Third Reserve Battalion of the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division, who had fought them to a stalemate for thirteen hours straight? An enemy they could only match when relying on defensive fortifications had been utterly crushed within twenty minutes by this mysterious force that emerged from nowhere under cover of darkness. Two hundred soldiers routed by fewer than fifty combat units—how was such a thing possible?

“Praise be to Monya! This must be the Lord’s favor,” Graham murmured devoutly, making the sign of the cross over his chest.

“Lord bless,” he whispered.

James exhaled deeply. “Captain, do you think those guys might be on our side?”

Graham turned to look at him, falling silent. Earlier, division command had indeed reported sending an ambush unit to flank behind enemy lines and launch a surprise attack, coordinating with the defenders for a pincer movement designed to annihilate the enemy entirely. The planned time for the assault was supposed to be at dawn, when enemy morale would be at its lowest. But according to Earth time, it was barely 3 AM. Moreover, the composition of the mysterious attacking force was bizarre. Their armored units were unlike anything seen before, let alone the terrifying alien creatures. Such bio-mechanical combinations didn’t exist in the 3789th Division—or even the entire Thunder Fleet.

“James, issue my order: all combat personnel are to enter Level One alert.” Turning to a communications soldier behind him, he added, “Casazai, transmit the footage we just recorded to the command center.”

“Yes…”

As the two soldiers carried out their orders, Graham opened his palm, staring at the worn-out crucifix in his hand before closing his fingers around it.

......

Meanwhile, at the logistics base command center of the 3789th Division, Deputy Commander Edward Oliver stared silently at the writhing xenomorphs on the monitor. Around him, a group of staff officers stood pale-faced, beads of sweat streaming down their foreheads like rivers…

Where had this mysterious force come from? In less than fifteen minutes, they had obliterated an entire reinforced company, causing a complete rout. How… how was this possible?

Keep in mind, the enemy consisted of mechanized infantry equipped with tanks, armed shuttles, and armored vehicles—all the heavy weaponry one could ask for.

“Hu Qing, do you have anything to say?” Edward’s gaze swept over a middle-aged man to his left—the division’s chief of staff and Francis’ most trusted military strategist.

The seasoned officer shook his head and sighed. “They’re enemies, not allies.”

“I know that,” Edward replied impassively. Recon satellites weren’t just for show; everyone present had witnessed the mysterious force decimate Kim Youngho’s company. Initially, they assumed these were Sulru reinforcements, but clearly, they were mistaken. These strangers operated independently.

Where had they come from? What did they want? Edward’s mind swirled with questions. After decades of military service and countless battles, he thought he’d seen it all. Yet here was something that truly defied comprehension: a small, unknown force of fewer than fifty units daring to challenge two fleets. Where did they get the confidence? The audacity?

Clearly, Edward wasn’t the only one grappling with such thoughts. Heavy footsteps echoed as Francis appeared at the doorway, his face etched with frost.

“Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on? Anyone?”

Francis’ lips twitched slightly—a telltale sign of his impending rage. No one dared speak.

“Hu Qing, explain. Who are these bastards rapidly approaching our base?”

Hu Qing raised his eyelids, glancing at Edward before fixing his gaze on Francis. “Based on their destruction of the reconnaissance company, occupation of Sulru positions, and satellite imagery, one thing is clear: they bear animosity toward both sides.”

“Get to the point,” Francis snapped, his brow furrowing. He and Hu Qing were old partners, familiar enough to know every detail about each other—even the size of the hemorrhoids on their asses.

“Cough, cough.” Hu Qing cleared his throat and glanced at Francis. “Colonel, these people may belong to our division.”

“What?” The room erupted in stunned silence. From the 3789th Division? Their own troops? Why would they attack the reconnaissance company?

“These individuals either harbor a grudge against Kim Youngho or the imperial high command,” Hu Qing explained quickly. “Though I don’t know where their equipment came from, one thing is certain: Kim Youngho knew them. That much is evident from their initial standoff rather than immediate engagement.”

“Who’s Kim Youngho?” As commander of the division, Francis couldn’t possibly remember every junior officer’s name.

“Kim Youngho, lieutenant rank, graduated from the Zelas Naval Academy on Planet Muur. Originally the platoon leader of the First Armored Brigade’s direct reconnaissance company, he became the temporary commander after Captain Powell died and Lieutenant Lu Yun was injured.”

“The First Armored Brigade? Reconnaissance company?” Francis seemed to recall something vaguely, but after spending five seconds pondering, he dismissed it entirely.

Kim Youngho—a mere junior officer. Who was he compared to Colonel Francis, a nobleman of the empire? Whether the unknown force harbored enmity toward Kim Youngho mattered little to him. His sole concern was stabilizing the situation and defending the base.

As a senior officer and aristocrat, Francis possessed the inherent arrogance of the upper class. Crushing a soldier with his power was akin to squashing an ant beneath his boot. In his forty-some years, only two things mattered to him: glory and status. Everything else was trivial.

Well, almost everything. There were also women—young ones, aged sixteen or seventeen, whose bodies were ripe yet tinged with innocence. They’d shyly close their eyes at the sight of his scarred, naked body and rest their heads on his arm, tracing patterns through his thick chest hair.

Like savoring the spoils of victory, Francis would kiss every inch of their skin before carrying them to bed, indulging in their youthful vitality. The sense of conquest was intoxicating, like planting the empire’s sacred banner on enemy shores—it was addictive, mesmerizing, impossible to resist.

If Tang Fang were a woman—a stunning beauty—he might have remembered her. If she were a formidable foe, he’d have etched her into his memory. If she were part of the imperial nobility, he’d have shown respect, offered her a drink, and shared vulgar jokes popular among aristocrats.

Unfortunately, none of those applied.

As a capable general, an elegant nobleman, and a hardened soldier, why would he care about crushing vermin beneath his boots?

“Hu Qing, I don’t give a damn about Kim Youngho’s feud with them. Just tell me how we should handle the upcoming battle.”

The ever-prudent chief of staff smiled faintly and stepped toward the terminal console. With a tap, an image appeared on the central monitor—a marine.

“Gentlemen, you’ve already witnessed the prowess of this lightweight armor. Compared to the empire’s ‘Guardian Knight’ or Sulru’s ‘Silver Wolf,’ it surpasses them in bullet resistance, mobility, and agility. In close combat, there’s no doubt our soldiers would fall. Let’s call it the ‘Mountain Panther.’”

“This unit is formidable, yes, but not invincible. Cannons of 20mm or higher can penetrate their armor. Gentlemen, we’re on the defensive. Once they charge, the 30mm autocannon bunkers on our frontlines and our snipers will make them regret it.”

He tapped again, and the monitor displayed a marauder’s bulky, awkward figure.

“This powered armor—we’ll call it the ‘Black Bear’—is heavily armed and armored, equipped with grenade launchers effective against ground vehicles. However, its weaknesses are clear: limited range and poor anti-air capabilities. Surface-to-surface missiles and the 120mm auto-cannons atop our walls can form a devastating combined fire network.”

“Now, observe this.” The screen changed again, showing a roach in the center. “Setting aside its origins, this biological unit has thick carapace and spits highly corrosive saliva. Like the ‘Black Bear,’ it struggles against air threats and has limited range. Switching our multirole armored vehicles to anti-armor mode, coupled with base turrets, renders it manageable.”

“Next, look here.” Hu Qing pressed a button and pointed to a monstrous tank-like creature on the left side of the central screen. “This biological unit is exceptionally versatile but fatally slow. And here”—he gestured to a partially visible Spine Crawler on the right—“this is undoubtedly their strongest offensive unit. However, based on the footage, it functions more as a defensive structure than a mobile combatant.”

“These two units are easy targets for our orbital defense cannons.”

“Finally, consider this man.” Hu Qing returned to the terminal, tapping once more to display a figure clad in standard imperial power armor. “Throughout the battle, this mysterious force’s formation and tactics revolve around him. Clearly, he’s likely their leader.”

“In the next engagement, focusing our attacks on him might yield unexpected benefits.”

Silence filled the room. For half a minute, the only sound was the rhythmic applause of Francis’ hands. “Good, good, good.”

Three simple words conveyed Francis’ satisfaction. Since his youth, Hu Qing had been his partner—a steadfast ally for over two decades who never disappointed. Right-hand man? No, Hu Qing was his both-hand man.

As for Edward… Hmph, without family connections, how could he have risen to his current position?

“Hu Qing, draft a detailed operational plan and deliver it to the frontline commanders immediately.” Francis rose and headed for the door. “Decryption efforts are at a critical stage. I don’t want any mishaps at the base, Edward. I'll leave it to you.”

“Rest assured.” Edward nodded, watching Francis’ retreating figure with narrowed eyes.

Back in the command room, everyone resumed their duties. Hu Qing led several staff officers to the holographic projection of the base, meticulously discussing tactical details.

Edward slowly sank into a sofa, picked up a small square glass from the coffee table, and took a delicate sip, savoring the smooth, fruity aroma of whiskey. He never added ice—just as he preferred a life free of turbulence.

......

Hu Qing was a reliable man. In the eyes of many mid-level officers, his reputation surpassed even that of Deputy Commander Edward Oliver.

When Graham received the operational plan from headquarters and learned it was personally tailored by Hu Qing, an uncontainable smile spread across his face.

“James, now you can relax. If those bastards dare to come, we’ll make sure they taste defeat.”

James looked up at his somewhat verbose, neurotic captain, who always attributed everything—good or bad—to divine intervention or wrath. Without replying, he continued smearing black greasepaint onto his face.

He found it oddly soothing, much like Graham’s incessant chatter.

“We’ve got 120mm auto-turrets, surface-to-surface missiles, orbital defense cannons, high-voltage fences, minefields, death traps… Come on, come on, fools who dare attack our base—I’ll make sure none of you return alive.”

......

Across the battlefield, in the trenches littered with charred corpses and wrecked vehicles, Tang Fang gazed past the buffer zone at the layered defenses resembling terraced fields.

All combat units had been recalled into system space. The battlefield was eerily empty, like a cold, starlit graveyard.

“Well?” The exhaust vents on the marine armor expelled two streams of white smoke, remnants of Arroz’s endless chain-smoking. “If we stay here any longer, the piss in this suit will freeze. Can’t we stretch our legs?”

Tang Fang glanced at them. “Want to feel what it’s like to go back to the womb?”

“What… what do you mean?” Housen stammered.

Without answering, Tang Fang raised his arm and pointed upward. Both men followed his gesture—and then froze like statues.

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