Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C85

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

From tens of thousands of light-years away, clusters of colorful nebulae and clouds of stellar dust watched silently, indifferent observers of the chaos brewing in this corner of the serene star system. No one needed advanced data analysis to see what was coming; even a casual glance at Planet Namie told them everything. It didn’t take a genius to figure out—it was going to blow, big time. Big enough to swallow every last soul unlucky enough to be nearby.

It reminded Alfred of Earth’s old days, when humanity stood powerless before nature's fury. And now, centuries later, despite their leap into space, humans were still just as small and insignificant against the vastness of the cosmos. Thousands could die here tonight, and it wouldn’t even ripple through history.

The fleet commanders had grown impatient waiting for orders. As soon as the command came down, nearly a thousand warships ignited their engines under the deep black expanse, their thrusters blazing like swarms of fireflies weaving nets of light across the void.

From massive carriers and battleships to nimble frigates and scout vessels, every ship acted like schools of fish sensing danger. They wriggled, twisted, and turned—some sleek, others ungainly—as they scrambled to retreat in every direction.

Meanwhile, above Planet Namie’s low orbit, transport shuttles buzzed about like hornets fleeing a burning hive, each racing toward their mother ships.

Behind them loomed a fractured sphere, its surface crisscrossed with glowing fissures. Rivers of molten fire snaked across its crust, radiating pulsating red halos into the surrounding emptiness. To anyone who didn’t know better, it might have looked breathtaking—a rare celestial spectacle. But to those escaping from Planet Namie, it felt more like the gates of hell slowly creaking open, spilling forth beams of crimson light that screamed violence and death.

“Transport Alpha-708 requesting docking clearance.”

“Hurry… hurry up! Medical teams, are you asleep? If you don’t want to die, get moving!”

“Liu An, what the hell are you doing? I told you to clear the runway, not hide in the hangar!”

“Captain, we’ve completed the turn. What’s next?”

“Heavenly Father, I praise You, the Almighty God. Clothed in majesty and splendor, wrapped in light as with a garment, You spread out the heavens like a tent. Oh Lord, Your glorious light shines upon my heart and guides me forward.”

“Ronaldo, stop crying! What good is crying going to do? Pull yourself together, damn it.”

“Galileo, you’re nothing but a geological survey vessel! What the hell are you doing mixing with warships? You’ve messed up our formation—get lost!”

Whether it was the Thunder Fleet or the Saint Violet Fleet, chaos reigned everywhere—from the bridges to the living quarters, from the hangars to the landing pads. Cries of grief over lost friends mingled with fervent prayers, angry shouts of blame, and feeble moans of despair. Together, these sounds formed a mournful symphony that echoed through the battlefield among the stars.

Back on Planet Namie, Sulru Empire’s Little Eagle Squadron had already evacuated, while Tiger Shark Squadron remained behind due to their rescue mission and positioning.

Alfred clenched his fists tightly, his eyes glued to the inferno raging outside the viewport. Fountains of magma now stretched hundreds of meters wide, resembling miniature volcanoes erupting all over the planet. Shuttles darted back and forth, rescuing survivors where they could. Through the windows of passing transports, Alfred caught glimpses of tear-streaked faces filled with relief—but far too many others disappeared into the fiery abyss, never to return.

Of the 13,000 soldiers in the 3789th Division, only a fraction survived after enduring base sieges, relic skirmishes, and now this cataclysm. For every ten men who started, barely one remained alive.

Even Tiger Shark Squadron paid dearly for their efforts. Three escort ships crashed, and a destroyer sustained critical damage. Their reward? A mere 1,200 survivors, wounded included. An entire armored division reduced to rubble. Was it worth it? Was any of it worth it?

As the helmsman steered the ship upward, Alfred took one final look at the source of the disaster—the Epsilon ruins. Still standing tall amidst the devastation, it glowed eerily, like a beacon guiding souls through purgatory.

Wait… a beacon? Alfred blinked, then rubbed his eyes again. His jaw dropped lower and lower as he stared.

A streak of azure shot through the haze and flames, slicing through the air like an arrow unleashed from a bow. It wasn’t just any object—it was crescent-shaped, gleaming like polished silver, unmistakably an Epsilon shuttle.

“Epsilon shuttle! IT’S AN EPSILON SHUTTLE!” Alfred bellowed, his voice reverberating throughout the bridge. Every crew member froze mid-task, turning toward the monitors displaying the incoming craft.

This wasn’t human engineering. Its form alone made that clear. The sleek, curved wings resembled bull horns, framing a diamond-shaped crystal embedded in its center. Its surface shimmered with veins of electric blue, pulsating faintly as it hurtled toward Tiger Shark Squadron at breakneck speed.

An operational Epsilon spacecraft? After two centuries of silence, humanity thought Epsilon relics were nothing more than ancient artifacts locked away in museums. Sure, some ruins still functioned, but this… this thing was twenty meters long, fully mobile, and flying straight toward them. Was it malfunctioning AI? Or had the Epsilons somehow risen from the dead?

Not just Alfred’s ship but the entire squadron gawked at the silver streak tearing through the sky. For a moment, everyone forgot their pain, their fear, their losses. Even the wounded and dying lifted their heads to stare in awe.

“Holy mother of… Did I just see an operational Epsilon shuttle?”

“Hell, this has got to be a nightmare!”

“Where’s my high-powered camera? Lynx, where the hell did you put it?”

“Quick, someone record this! This footage will be worth a fortune someday. Holy crap, this is front-page news!”

Every available porthole was crowded with people—bandaged hands gripping railings, mechanical legs clanking, faces wrapped in gauze. Young and old, whole and broken, they all pressed close, wide-eyed, watching the approaching shuttle draw nearer by the second.

“Quick! Report this to Fleet Command,” Alfred snapped, shaking off his stupor first. He barked orders at a young woman stationed at the comms console.

“Yes, sir!” The beautiful liaison officer sprang into action, hastily contacting headquarters.

Most of the crew remained transfixed by the sight of the legendary Epsilon shuttle, oblivious to the fact that they were teetering on the brink of annihilation. Meanwhile, Planet Namie continued its descent into ruin. The cracks spreading across its surface widened further, rivers of molten fire coursing like global tributaries. The red glow intensified, energy waves carrying heat radiation, electromagnetic pulses, and various rays rippling outward, forming a planet-wide storm of raw power.

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