Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C95

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Carmen Eddie, the driver of the lead Saber-Tooth, yawned several times. The afternoon sun made him drowsy, evoking fond memories of past beach vacations. Rows of bikini-clad beauties on the sand, gentle sunlight rippling across the water, waves lapping at the shore, and the comforting smell of saltwater fish—all seemed far more appealing than this tedious escort mission.

"Yawn..." He stretched again, reaching for the military canteen beside his seat, ready to take a few refreshing sips. Suddenly, a flash of red light appeared on the road ahead, followed by a deafening explosion. The resulting spray of sand obscured half the sky.

Startled, Carmen quickly snapped back to attention at the shouts of his comrades. Slamming on the brakes, he shouted into the comms device, "Ambush! We're under attack!"

Skid marks screeched across the ground as the trucks groaned with the release of compressed air during braking. Another explosion echoed, this time from behind.

The road ahead was cratered, impassable, and their escape route was cut off. Forgetting about his drink, Carmen tossed the canteen aside and grabbed the intercom on the control panel. "Quick, protect the trucks!"

"Bang... Bang..." The rear doors of the four Saber-Tooth A1s opened, and several soldiers clad in powered armor disembarked in quick succession.

But before they could form a defensive perimeter, flashes of fire erupted from the southern slope across the highway. Swarms of rockets streaked through the air, leaving trails of smoke like writhing snakes, raining down on the armored vehicles and exploding into surging flames.

"South slope! South slope! Enemy on the south slope!" The convoy commander, Owen Griffin, barked into the comms. The soldiers immediately raised their rifles, firing toward the flashes of light on the southern slope.

"Beep... Beep..." Warning lights lit up on the control panel. Diagnostic systems indicated severe damage to the vehicle's armor and a malfunctioning power system—the carrier was immobilized.

"Shit," Carmen cursed, abandoning the driver’s seat for the weapons control station at the rear. He activated the onboard radar, switching it to target acquisition mode. Flipping open the safety cover of the missile launcher controls, he gripped the joystick with his right hand, rotating the twin triple-barrel missile launchers atop the vehicle to face directly south.

"Targets locked." The voice in his earpiece confirmed what the radar screen displayed—a cluster of red dots marking the enemy positions on the southern slope. The system had already fed coordinates of the densest troop concentrations into the guidance system. One press of the button, and the enemy would be obliterated.

"Bastards, daring to intercept a military convoy? Let me show you the difference in firepower!" Carmen roared, finger poised over the launch button. But just then, a sharp, piercing warning sounded: "Approaching heat source detected."

He glanced down at the radar. A rapidly moving red dot was closing in on the center.

"What the hell..." This was Carmen's last thought before the world erupted in smoke and fire.

Through the twisted wreckage of the armored carrier, shredded by anti-tank missiles, the silhouettes of several pickup trucks fleeing along the northern slope could be seen.

"Damn it!" Owen hurled an empty magazine onto the ground in frustration. Four armored vehicles, destroyed by a ragtag group wielding crude weapons—this was humiliating.

"Ping... Ping..." Stray bullets ricocheted off the guardrails, leaving rows of holes.

"Whoosh, whoosh." More rockets flew overhead, landing between the vehicles and detonating. The shockwaves sent several soldiers flying. They rolled, got up, and continued returning fire.

Though cumbersome and uncomfortable, the powered armor provided excellent protection. In atmospheric conditions, bullets smaller than 7mm struggled to penetrate the outer layers, making fatal injuries unlikely. Moreover, the suits effectively shielded against small explosions and shockwaves.

"Pop-pop-pop." A volley of bullets struck the embankment, kicking up clouds of dust. Owen huddled behind the wrecked APC, gasping for breath. Unsure of how many enemies hid on the northern slope, he hesitated to mount an assault on the southern side. Their primary mission was to escort the three trucks to Loot Bay. Attacking the south slope full force risked being flanked from the north, leading to a desperate battle on two fronts.

Four APCs destroyed, yet the three trucks remained untouched. Clearly, the attackers were after whatever was inside those trucks. The enemy held the high ground on both slopes, while Owen’s forces were pinned in the low-lying area. Charging across the flat, open terrain would invite devastating resistance. The enemy possessed numerous rockets, and even powered armor couldn’t withstand direct hits from such explosives.

Given that the enemy's objective was the trucks, the best course of action now was to use the wreckage for cover and hold their position until reinforcements arrived. But would the enemy give them the chance?

The answer came swiftly. "Boom, boom, boom." Metallic explosions echoed from the northern slope as plumes of smoke rose into the air. Over a dozen grenades arced gracefully through the sky, landing around the convoy like falling beans. Each exploded into thick clouds of vapor.

The fog spread rapidly. Owen froze momentarily but quickly noticed the green fluorescent powder clinging to the surface of his powered armor. His scalp tingled, and every hair on his body stood on end. "All personnel, take cover immediately!"

His warning came too late. "Boom, boom, boom..." The crack of high-powered sniper rifles rang out. Soldiers hiding behind the guardrails were decapitated by 17mm armor-piercing rounds. Blood and brain matter splattered the ground, resembling tofu drenched in chili oil.

Simultaneously, the pickup trucks reappeared. Missile launchers mounted in their beds swiveled slightly. With flashes of fire, nearly meter-wide anti-tank missiles shot skyward, looped mid-air, and plunged downward like white carp, exploding amidst the clustered troops with searing flames.

Craters pockmarked the highway, and debris rained down amidst cries of pain. Owen crouched behind an overturned APC, his pale face etched with despair.

The earlier mist wasn’t ordinary smoke—it was a specially formulated nanoparticle designed to adhere to powered armor or stealth vehicles, emitting a unique frequency wave to guide precision weapons like missiles, snipers, and guided bombs.

Now, the soldiers were completely exposed to the enemy's sights. Holding out until reinforcements arrived felt like a pipe dream.

"What to do? What should I do? How can we get out of this?"

Just as Owen was overwhelmed with panic and indecision, static crackled in the comms. Then, a high-pitched, almost feminine voice spoke: "Lieutenant Owen, how’s it going? Need a hand?"

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