Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C127

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Chapter 127: Crisis

The airbase covered an area of 14 square kilometers, equipped with facilities such as a runway, hangars, aprons, maintenance workshops, communication and navigation towers, a hospital, barracks, radar stations, and more. Though only a brigade-level unit, it was fully outfitted—small but complete.

Modern fighter jets mostly had vertical/short takeoff and landing capabilities, so the runway wasn’t particularly long, measuring just around 1,600 meters. By the time Tang Fang arrived with his team, the outer iron fence had been reduced to shambles. Through the buffer zone, they could see large blast marks and craters marring several buildings inside. Further away, on the apron beside the runway, a few destroyed aircraft lay scattered, their parts and debris strewn across the ground. If one looked closely, bodies—some in clusters of two or three—were visible in various corners. Unfortunately, from this distance, it was impossible to tell whether they belonged to rebel forces or government troops.

Tang Fang instructed Nehemiah and Sam to stay put, leaving three marines behind to guard them while he led Housen and the remaining soldiers through the broken fence into the buffer zone.

“Dak-dak, dak-dak…” Just as Tang Fang’s group crossed the buffer zone and approached the base perimeter, a burst of gunfire erupted from afar. Simultaneously, flashes of muzzle fire lit up the roof of a building opposite the runway.

Startled, Tang Fang and Housen instinctively reached for their weapons, ready to return fire—but quickly realized they weren’t the targets. The bullets slammed into a nearby meteorological observation station, shattering its front windows and scattering shards everywhere.

Tang Fang flipped down his visor, switching to long-range vision mode. Through the rear window of the observation station, he spotted two figures crouched behind cover, dodging incoming fire directed at them from above.

“Hmm?” The pair wore neither government uniforms nor the “Light of Garcia” insignia of the Northern Sunaru Alliance. Instead, they were dressed in plain civilian clothes.

“They’re rebel miners,” Tang Fang deduced almost instantly.

“Dak-dak… dak-dak…” At that moment, another volley of gunfire rang out from the watchtower, smashing several more windows in the room where the two miners hid. Inside, the men struggled to keep their heads down, gasping for breath under the relentless barrage.

Tang Fang scanned the surroundings. Flashes of gunfire continued from atop the navigation tower and other tall structures, targeting low-lying areas and hidden corners throughout the base.

“It seems the issue isn’t a communications failure—they’re still engaged in combat.” He observed the satellite antenna array farther away, frowning. From the deactivated turrets surrounding the base, it was clear the defense system had indeed been neutralized by the special ops team, as Nehemiah had mentioned. But why then had contact with Makanda Armory been lost? Mechanical malfunction? Or interference from government forces?

“Tang Fang, what now?” Housen whispered, leaning closer.

Speculation wouldn’t help; better to ask someone directly. Tang Fang squinted at the shadowy silhouettes atop the watchtower. “Let’s rescue those two in the observation station first.”

“No problem,” Housen replied confidently, rising to his feet. Using auxiliary buildings near the observation station as cover, he moved swiftly forward.

Tang Fang followed with the rest of the soldiers. As they crossed the buffer zone and neared the right-side buildings adjacent to the runway, Tang Fang suddenly grabbed Housen by the arm and pulled him toward the shadow of a water reservoir.

“What is it?” Housen whispered, lowering his voice further. Tang Fang gestured for silence, pointing toward the narrow alleyway ahead.

One… two… three shadows emerged slowly from the tight space between buildings. Their attire confirmed they were government soldiers, carefully maneuvering toward the rear of the observation station. Their intentions were obvious.

A cold smirk crept across Housen’s lips. Turning back to Tang Fang, he pointed to two marines, then to himself, making an OK sign. Leave it to me, his gesture implied.

Since eliminating these three enemies was inevitable anyway—and Tang Fang was curious about what reckless plan Housen might come up with—he nodded. “Not a single survivor.”

“You can count on me,” Housen grinned, waving the two marines over before stepping cautiously forward like a stealthy bear stalking prey, inching closer to the unsuspecting government soldiers focused entirely on the rear window of the observation station.

It was almost comical how the two marines mimicked Housen perfectly, resembling a grizzly leading her cubs, silently closing in on a trio of hyenas.

With their powered armor switched to stealth-noise suppression mode, the three snuck along pipelines until they flanked the enemy. On Housen’s signal, the marines sprang into action like jungle panthers, lunging forward to grab the two soldiers at the back. With sharp twists, they snapped their necks—crack, crack—and the poor souls slumped lifelessly without even a scream.

Housen was even more brutal. Lunging forward like a pouncing tiger, he pinned his victim to the ground, muffling any cries. By the time he stood up, satisfied with his handiwork, the body beneath him was grotesquely contorted.

“Done!” Housen’s excited voice crackled over the comms, sounding unnervingly energetic, as if he’d just downed an entire bottle of stimulants.

From a distance, Tang Fang watched with a dark expression, shaking his head. Using nearly a ton of Marauder armor as a meat grinder—He figured only Housen would think of something like that.

“What next?”

“Follow me.” Tang Fang selected three soldiers, ordering the rest to hold position. They advanced quickly along the shadows cast by the buildings flanking the observation station.

Opposite them, the enemy suppression point consisted of three soldiers armed with two W-505 Saber assault rifles and a 7.62mm M-K52 machine gun fitted with a scope.

As the four moved forward, the two miners hiding behind cover inside the observation station argued heatedly.

“Pitman, we can’t keep doing this. Here’s the plan—I’ll draw their fire while you sneak around back and report our findings to command.”

“Xia Yuanhua, you’re faster than me. You go deliver the message, I’ll distract them.”

“No, precisely because I’m faster, I should be the one to…”

“No, I insist.”

…

Just as the two debated endlessly, preparing to charge recklessly, four metallic clinks echoed suddenly. A silver flash streaked past, and three bursts of blood bloomed on the wall outside the watchtower. The three government soldiers who had been standing upright moments ago crumpled instantly, and the shooting ceased.

Pitman and Xia Yuanhua exchanged bewildered glances.

“Thud-thud-thud.” A muffled knocking came from the left window. Startled, the two turned to see a soldier clad in unfamiliar powered armor holding up a badge symbolizing the rebel forces, gesturing emphatically.

“One of us… It’s one of us!” After a stunned pause, the two erupted into cheers. They recognized none of the special ops members wearing this kind of armor, so it was clear reinforcements had arrived unexpectedly to save their lives.

Outside, Tang Fang pointed to himself, then to them, signaling for the two to stay put. Then, with Housen and a few marines, he stepped out of the shadows and hurried toward the main entrance.

His concern was practical: there might still be hidden enemies atop the watchtower. With their powered armor, he and his team were impervious to standard firearms, but Pitman and Xia Yuanhua, clad only in thin shirts, would surely perish if exposed to enemy fire.

However, no sooner had Tang Fang emerged from the shadows near the runway than Xia Yuanhua abruptly stood up, heedless of exposure. Darting to the doorway, he called out urgently, “Run! Don’t enter the runway area!”

“Why?” Tang Fang froze mid-step, glancing at the flat expanse of the runway below his feet, then at the eerily silent watchtower across the way. Confusion filled his face.

“Be careful!” Two voices rang out simultaneously—one from Housen, the other from Xia Yuanhua at the meteorological station’s entrance.

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