Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C103

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

In the aftermath, Marion Duncan stepped into the public eye, claiming responsibility for the revolt. He issued a rallying cry to all those oppressed by the Krotan government and its army—farmers, miners, laborers from every trade, even low-ranking soldiers—to join him in overthrowing Colcrav I’s tyrannical regime and restoring peace to Monya.

Aldrich Jackson, Governor of Planet Krotan, seethed with indignation. How dare one of the leaders of the Garcia Resistance challenge his authority so brazenly? Ignoring his advisors’ pleas for caution, he immediately ordered the First Legion of Krotan's defense forces stationed in the east to suppress the uprising. Simultaneously, he mobilized fleets from four naval ports toward the Arctic region, intending to strike while Marion’s grip remained tenuous and reclaim the missile base on Thor Continent.

"Compared to being a warrior on the battlefield, Aldrich Jackson is better suited as a bureaucrat. And compared to being a statesman serving the people, he’s more fit to be a pampered noble." This was how some military commanders privately described him behind closed doors.

Much like his approach to relationships—where brute force often replaced tact—Aldrich’s first instinct when it came to warfare was also his only instinct: retaliate with overwhelming force.

The fleets from the four naval ports set sail, their massive armadas cutting across the seas toward the southern coastlines of Thor and Oding Continents, heading straight for Karst Naval Port—the closest point to the missile base. According to the original battle plan, once they secured Karst Naval Port by force, marines would use it as a springboard for launching a counteroffensive.

But no one could have predicted that before the call to arms was sounded, the death knell would ring instead.

There were three naval ports on Oding Continent: two in the south housing the South Sea First and Second Fleets, and one in the north manned by the North Sea First Fleet. On Thor Continent, Karst Naval Port housed the North Sea Second Fleet, while Domonok Naval Port on Freyr Continent guarded the South Sea Third Fleet.

The combined might of the South Sea First, Second, and Third Fleets, along with the North Sea First Fleet, crossed vast oceans, converging menacingly upon Karst Naval Port. Though the port was under Marion’s control, and the North Sea Second Fleet had fallen into rebel hands, the defending forces still stood little chance against such a formidable coalition—even with the aid of fortified defenses.

Yet, something utterly unforeseen occurred. As the South Sea First, Second, and Third Fleets deployed into formation, coordinating air strikes alongside aerial units to launch a devastating assault on Karst Naval Port, the North Sea First Fleet suddenly turned its guns inward. Without warning, it unleashed a ferocious barrage on the unsuspecting South Sea Second Fleet positioned ahead of it.

The initial volley alone crippled 41 vessels of varying sizes within the South Sea Second Fleet, halving its combat effectiveness in an instant. Fighter jets—both manned and unmanned—from carriers swooped in to deliver follow-up attacks on the remaining ships.

Within just twenty minutes, the South Sea Second Fleet was nearly annihilated. Meanwhile, the North Sea Second Fleet, which had been hunkered down inside Karst Naval Port, burst forth unexpectedly, flanking the beleaguered remnants of the South Sea forces alongside the traitorous North Sea First Fleet. Together, they launched a full-scale counterattack against the South Sea First, Third, and surviving Second Fleets.

Trapped between poor formations, the fortified harbor held by the rebels, and the demoralizing loss of half their fleet, the South Sea fleets had no choice but to retreat under cover of aerial bombardment. In the end, abandoning over 80 wrecked warships, they limped back to safety, having narrowly escaped the jaws of defeat.

The failure to retake the missile base, coupled with the crippling blow dealt to the northern expeditionary fleet, left Aldrich reeling. For the first time, he realized just how far outclassed he was in terms of strategic foresight. Compared to Marion, he wasn’t even worthy of polishing the boots for him.

After the Battle of Karst Naval Port, the military lost all control over the northern seas. The South Sea First, Second, and Third Fleets retreated to their respective ports, licking their wounds like wounded beasts nursing their injuries in silence.

Did this mean surrender? Or giving up? Not a chance. Compromise wasn’t in Aldrich’s vocabulary. Learning from past mistakes, he decided to shift focus to Droznyr Naval Port in the north of Oding Continent, where the North Sea First Fleet had once been stationed.

This time, however, his strategy took a complete U-turn. Gone was the reckless frontal assault; in its place came a softer touch. Why had the sailors of the North Sea First Fleet risked everything to side with Marion’s rebellion? The answer boiled down to one word: treatment.

Imperial law mandated that all men aged eighteen or older were obligated to serve in the military to protect their homeland and defend the nation from foreign threats.

On paper, it sounded noble—a patriotic duty cloaked in glittering rhetoric. But strip away the embellishments, and you’d find nothing but a fig leaf hiding the stench of corruption. Whose homeland were these young men protecting? Who benefited from their sacrifices? Their parents bowed their heads before nobles, treated like livestock fattened for slaughter, forced to sacrifice their sweat, blood, and lives for the elite few. Was such a home worth defending? Such a country worth supporting?

As with every dark age throughout history, the greed of the ruling class knew no bounds. Nowhere was this truer than at the local level, where cold nights stretched endlessly, bringing only darkness and cruelty. Especially during recruitment drives, nobles scrambled over each other to get involved—not out of patriotism, but because conscription was a goldmine ripe for exploitation.

Everyone knew the risks: eight years of mandatory service, with a fatality rate exceeding 50%. Avoiding the draft became the foremost concern for every common family. Ultimately, it came down to wealth and connections. If your ties ran deep enough, a fake medical diagnosis, a university acceptance letter, or even a single word from an official at the governor’s office could spare your child from certain doom. Lacking influence? You could always pay. Fifty thousand MYD bought a spot exemption—this was the going rate on Planet Krotan, though prices varied elsewhere depending on GDP. Local government intervention further complicated matters, as countless officials relied on “dividends” from the draft department to improve their own lives.

If you lacked both connections and cash, then sorry—you’d already been assigned a seat on the train bound for hell. Alternatively, there was an installment plan. Generous, right? Just ten thousand MYD upfront exempted you from cannon fodder status, allowing you to serve comfortably as a ground soldier back home. Pay off the remaining forty thousand within three years, and you could return to civilian life unscathed. Fail to do so, and you’d be shipped off to the frontlines of space warfare. As for getting that money back? Good luck—it was easier to steal food from a tiger’s mouth.

Of course, most never got the chance. They were deliberately sent to the fiercest battlefields, destined to swell the military database with a few bytes of data—the sole proof that they ever existed.

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