Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C113

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Chapter 113: Nakamura Neji and His Izumo

Fifteen minutes earlier.  

Forty kilometers off the northern shore of Loot Bay, a fleet of three missile destroyers and twelve frigates sat idly on calm waters. Above them, an aerial escort squadron consisting of "Amaterasu-AP5" early-warning aircraft and various armed helicopters hovered like scattered stars across the sky.  

But this wasn’t just about surface ships; twenty-four Rintou-class nuclear submarines were also part of the operation. At its outset, these stealthy vessels had slipped beneath radar detection to deliver the Sea Falcon Commandos close to shore. Once the commandos launched their lightning strike on Makanda Arsenal, securing control of the area, the missile destroyer fleet surged forward into Loot Bay. The Rintou-class subs then joined as escorts under the banner of the flagship Izumo, reinforcing the surface support group.  

With the combined surveillance capabilities of the airborne Amaterasu-AP5 early-warning planes and ship-mounted targeting radars, any armored vehicle from the Northern Sunaru Alliance that dared leave cover was immediately locked onto by fire-control systems and reduced to scrap metal by long-range artillery. As for the alliance’s combat aircraft and drones, they’d been obliterated during the first wave of engagements—decimated by the coordinated efforts of submarines, ships, and air escorts.  

Now, all that remained was to hold out until the 408th and 508th Armored Divisions arrived to complete the encirclement. Then, the rebel forces in Subei would face their inevitable demise. This was the shared belief among every sailor aboard the fleet and every high-ranking officer involved in the mission. After all, against such an overwhelming offensive, unless the rebels had divine intervention on their side, their chances of turning the tide were effectively zero.  

The Izumo—a state-of-the-art warship commissioned less than six months ago—was the crown jewel of the fleet. Equipped with space-grade radar arrays, long-range missile launch modules, close-in weapon systems, and a medium-sized nuclear fusion reactor, it stood out even amidst the mixed submarine-and-ship task force. Nearly three hundred meters long with a displacement of fifteen thousand tons, it was impossible to miss.  

During the campaign to seize Karst Naval Port on Thor Continent, when the First Fleet of the North turned traitor and crippled the Second Fleet of the South, nearly eighty-five percent of the main battleships sank. Only smaller vessels equipped with fusion engines—like the Izumo, Tiagalara, and Otto—managed to escape unscathed.  

After retreating to the South Sea Naval Base for repairs, Admiral Aldrich issued new orders: reform the remnants of the Second Fleet into a missile destroyer squadron led by the Izumo. Paired with a submarine squadron dispatched from the Sarrolhas Missile Base, they set sail for Loot Bay on Odin’s eastern coast to execute a swift strike mission. And what a success it had been. Not only did they trap the Northern Sunaru Alliance’s headquarters within a narrow zone barely four hundred meters wide at the center of Makanda Arsenal, but they also pinned down the enemy’s main forces.  

At this point, the alliance was caught in a death trap. They couldn’t rescue their commander, Montgomery, nor could they retreat—not without asking whether the mixed sub-surface and surface fleet would grant them the chance. To the north of Makanda Arsenal lay open plains, offering no cover against barrages of missiles screaming down from above. How could they possibly resist?  

Morale among the rebels had plummeted, compounded by heavy losses. All that remained was to press the advantage along the coastline, pushing them into the firing range of the 408th Division, and the ragtag insurgents would meet their end.  

Inside the Izumo’s command center, senior officers gathered around Nakamura Neji, celebrating with champagne. The amber liquid shimmered under the lights, casting hypnotic rings of light across the room.  

“To glory,” Nakamura said, stroking his cleanly shaven jaw as he raised his glass toward his comrades.  

“To glory… to the empire… to the light of Celtic!” the officers echoed, raising their glasses in response before draining them in one gulp.  

Nakamura lowered his empty glass, allowing a guard to refill it, then stepped toward the portside window. There, atop a raised platform, rested two ceremonial katana swords displayed prominently on a rack.  

It was clear that Nakamura was a staunch nationalist, clinging stubbornly to his sense of ethnic pride despite humanity’s advancement into the cosmic age. Even the naming of the Izumo reflected this sentiment. In Krotan Planet’s navy, newly commissioned ships weren’t named by military officials but by their first captains—a tradition Nakamura embraced wholeheartedly.  

While Nakamura might have been a narrow-minded nationalist, there was no denying his tactical brilliance. During the battle at Karst Naval Port, it was his foresight and masterful command that allowed the Izumo to evade the surprise attack of the First Fleet of the North.  

The two katanas on display were said to be heirlooms passed down through generations, dating back to a country's feudal era on ancient Earth. Nakamura often repeated a mantra: “As long as my sword exists, so do I; if my sword perishes, so shall I. Descendants of our people must always be ready to sacrifice themselves for their beliefs.”  

Some officers found this amusing. What if someone stole his sword one day or accidentally dropped it into the sea during morning drills? Would he really follow through on his words? Being a descendant of their people meant embracing the way of the warrior. If his life truly depended on his blade, suicide by disembowelment might seem like the logical conclusion.  

“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh…” Outside the porthole, the vertical missile launchers of the Tiagalara ignited in bursts of flame, sending missile after missile streaking toward the firefight raging outside Makanda Arsenal. Meanwhile, the Izumo’s 80mm electromagnetic railgun crackled with energy, firing round after round toward the target zone.  

This scene had played out countless times already, leaving the officers unfazed. What was wrong with those Northern Sunaru commanders? Hadn’t they learned their lesson after repeated defeats? Charging headfirst accomplished nothing. Hiding behind cover might buy them a little more time, but stepping out into the open was suicide.  

Yawns began to spread among the officers. The setting sun reminded them that nightfall approached. The battle wouldn’t last much longer—the 408th Division would arrive in about an hour, sealing the rebels’ fate.  

Thoughts drifted to Mond City’s famed steaks and oysters, the food trucks lining Cultural Street, the bikini-clad beauties lounging on Galavia Beach, and the ocean-view suites of the Bealidi Palace Hotel. Fantasies of post-battle nightlife grew vivid, making the officers increasingly impatient. One final bombardment, they thought, should send those pesky rebels packing—preferably straight back where they came from.  

Nakamura, however, remained composed. Two decades of military service had forged him into a commander as steady as a mountain. Until the fighting ended and the enemy surrendered, he wouldn’t let his guard down—not even if only a single rebel remained standing.  

The golden sheaths of the katanas gleamed faintly, mirroring their owner’s gaze—cold and piercing like midwinter frost.  

In contrast to the relaxed banter in the missile destroyer Hanamaru’s command room, the twelve frigates tasked with escort duties and fire support, along with the twenty-four nuclear submarines patrolling fifty meters below, faced a far greater challenge.  

The frigates’ 120mm main guns and 78mm secondary cannons roared nonstop, raining shells onto the frontlines from dozens of kilometers away while keeping a vigilant eye on underwater activity. With the First and Second Fleets of the rebellion trapped in the northern seas by the government’s First and Third Southern Fleets, the only remaining threat to the mixed Loot Bay task force came from beneath the waves.  

The "Guardian Knight" power armor boasted an exceptional airtight system, making it suitable for underwater demolition operations when paired with a compact submersible vehicle. The twelve frigates and twenty-four submarines worked tirelessly to counter potential threats from underwater sabotage teams. To this end, the submarines patrolled Loot Bay using specialized routes, scanning the depths with high-frequency sonar for signs of approaching enemies.  

Meanwhile, the frigates deployed reconnaissance robots equipped with underwater cameras throughout the surrounding waters. These robots moved vertically, providing 360-degree panoramic surveillance via high-definition cameras mounted on their tops. Any suspicious object nearing restricted zones triggered alarms, alerting the fleet and relaying images to the early-warning center.  

Under such a comprehensive warning system, not even a fish could approach unnoticed—though real fish, of course, could swim freely without raising suspicion. And yet, as events proved, artificial fish worked too. Sentry-manufactured decoys mimicked real fish perfectly, replicating their size, shape, and even reflecting sonar waves flawlessly.

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