Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C74

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He couldn’t make sense of it. Alien creatures had appeared on Planet 5, overwhelming the resource exploration base. Now, identical creatures had shown up on Planet Namie, attacking the 3789th Division. If there was any common thread between these incidents, it was Tang Yan—his presence seemed inextricably linked to every alien encounter.

And then there was the figure clad in the Empire’s "Guardian Knight" powered armor captured in surveillance footage. It all pointed to Tang Yan being involved with the aliens. Kraftmann had thought he’d cracked the mystery, but upon accessing the soldier database after receiving authorization, he found that Tang Yan, Arroz, and Housen were all marked as deceased.

The Empire relied heavily on its satellite-linked life-sign detection system embedded in powered armor to determine casualties among frontline troops and junior officers. These systems monitored vital signs in real-time. When a soldier succumbed to injuries, the life-sign program would activate, scanning biological metrics. Upon confirming death, it extracted DNA from the soldier’s blood and transmitted a "death signal" to orbiting satellites. Once verified against the military database, the soldier’s status was updated to "Deceased."

While Tang Yan being the leader of the swarm was merely speculation, the system’s verdict was based on cold, hard evidence. By comparison, the latter carried far more weight and credibility.

On Planet 5, the aliens had been uniform. But here on Planet Namie, not only were there multiple varieties, but unfamiliar human units and even mysterious warriors clad in golden armor had joined the fray.

Perhaps… perhaps he had guessed wrong.

Kraftmann sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he trudged toward his quarters. He had thought he’d stumbled upon a chance to redeem himself, only to find it was nothing more than a cruel joke.

Learning of Tang Yan’s death brought no guilt, no remorse, and certainly no self-reproach. True, Tang Yan had once saved his life—but so what? This was war, and war was merciless. Officers sending soldiers to their deaths was a daily occurrence. Survival of the fittest—it was an unchanging law of nature.

Coincidences did happen, of course. Like finding money on the street or hitting the jackpot. But such things were rare. In truth, Kraftmann was extraordinarily unlucky. A golden opportunity had slipped through his fingers, not due to mere chance, but because Lady Luck had sneezed and flicked a wad of amber snot straight into his lap.

Wei Dongfang had originally approached Francis to eliminate Tang Fang discreetly. Under Hu Qing’s suggestion, they devised a special reconnaissance mission under the guise of gathering intelligence on the enemy’s “Silver Tempest” missile unit. In reality, it was a suicide mission.

If the trio died, all the better. If captured, Sulru Empire’s treatment of prisoners—lifetime labor on mineral-rich planets—wasn’t much different from death itself. Tang Fang, as a low-ranking grunt, wouldn’t know the 3789th Division’s strategic plans, so there was little risk of leaks. Francis’s only concern was his rivals within the fleet discovering the truth. Though the 3789th Division fell under his command, he didn’t have absolute authority. Take Edward Oliver, the deputy commander, for instance—a thorn in his side planted by rival factions in the military.

Upon realizing the intel was faulty and facing an ambush, the trio would undoubtedly send a distress signal—or even report the sabotage of their powered armor to headquarters.

Sending men to investigate the missile base, only for the intel to be wrong and result in their deaths—why was the information incorrect? Why weren’t seasoned scouts sent instead? Who tampered with their armor? Was it the 3789th Division bullying newcomers, or was Francis settling personal scores?

Walls have ears. If someone pieced together the evidence and reported it to the overseer, Francis would face consequences. But Hu Qing, ever meticulous, had already minimized risks. The military satellites orbiting Planet Namie were under the 3789th Division’s control. Altering a soldier’s status from alive to deceased was child’s play.

By changing their status to "Deceased" before they could send a distress signal, any subsequent communication would be flagged as enemy espionage and ignored. This drastically reduced the chances of exposure.

Unless the trio somehow escaped the mechanized infantry division’s encirclement, this would simply be another routine failed reconnaissance mission resulting in fatalities.

Could they possibly escape the Silverwing Tempest Infantry Division’s three-pronged assault? Unlikely.

Hu Qing never imagined that not only would they survive the ambush, but they’d also stumble upon Epsilon’s advanced technological knowledge. His clever "foolproof plan" inadvertently cleared their names and dispelled Kraftmann’s suspicions, sparing Tang Yun and Tang Lin from disaster.

Of course, none of this mattered now. Hu Qing, who had orchestrated the scheme, was already dead—courtesy of Tang Fang—and unable to voice his frustration.

......

"Achoo! Achoo!" Tang Fang’s sneezes crackled over the comms.

"Catching a cold?" Housen quipped, shifting uncomfortably. Despite being stuffed into Overlord’s ventral sacs for the third time, he still felt nauseated, as if he’d swallowed a bowl of spoiled rice porridge.

Tang Fang glanced at his temperature reading in the health monitor and frowned. "No fever. Must be someone cursing me."

Housen chuckled. "Who’s cursing you? Hu Qing? Maybe he’s lonely down in the underworld, drawing circles to hex you."

Tang Fang paused, considering. Hu Qing, the only person who knew his true identity, was indeed dead. Could his ghost still linger, haunting him from beyond?

"Tang Fang, your aura’s dark, and your brow’s shadowed," Housen teased, unable to resist needling him further. "Looks like bad luck’s coming your way—bloodshed, maybe."

"Shut your trap," Tang Fang shot back, rolling his eyes. As he gazed out at the looming Epsilon ruins, his lips curled into a faint smile. "Lonely in the underworld, huh? Don’t worry. Your old friend will join you soon enough."

A minute later, Overlord vanished into system space, and Tang Fang led the group onto the high platform at the base of the tower. They approached the rune-inscribed gate calmly, stopping just short of its glowing ε symbol.

Arroz raised his Gauss rifle, nodding to the others. Seeing they were ready, Tang Fang took a deep breath and reached out to touch the symbol.

A soft glow pulsed, and the gate slid open silently. A blinding light spilled through the crack, bathing the trio in golden radiance.

Tang Fang squinted, stepping forward first. As he crossed the threshold, his body seemed to phase into another dimension, vanishing instantly.

Arroz and Housen followed without hesitation, disappearing into the gateway behind him.

Inside awaited a grand hall filled with flickering flames, crystalline energy cores, and intricate machinery…

And, of course, Francis’s wide-eyed, horrified stare.

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