Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C174

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Chapter 174: The Final Battle of Krotan (Part 1)

It had been a full day and night. Two thousand versus two hundred thousand—a disparity so vast it felt like an insurmountable chasm. The oppressive weight of impending doom hung heavy over every heart.

This was a battle with no chance of victory. The rebels were cornered, their backs against the wall. In the final stages of war, the enemy's armored divisions would surge from all directions, their cold treads and smoke-choked guns set to annihilate everyone within the base.

The blade was already poised above their heads; the noose was tightening around their necks…

But so what? As long as hearts still beat, blood still flowed, and hands could grip weapons, they would not yield. True warriors would rather die standing than live on their knees.

A missile exploded in the trenches, sending shrapnel slicing into a soldier’s shoulder. Blood seeped through the cracks of his powered armor, staining the icy snow beneath him crimson. He didn’t scream, didn’t cry for help, didn’t even flinch. His right hand remained firmly locked on the machine gun before him, firing round after relentless round at the enemy in the distance.

"Boom." A dropped a ground-attack missile, collapsing a cannon turret in an instant. Nearby, a rebel soldier clawed through the rubble, pulling out the lifeless body of a fallen comrade. Then, without hesitation, he hoisted the still-functional rear handle of the mounted gun and continued unleashing waves of bullets filled with fury and grief toward the advancing infantry swarm.

"Don’t give up. Don’t cry. Be a man—pick up your weapon…" The soldier’s hand finally fell limp, his boiling blood melting the frigid ice beneath him. Beside him lay a female trooper, sobbing uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face.

"Even if I can’t bury this rotting nation in my lifetime, at least before I die, I’ll take a few bastards with me. Come on, join me—you damn filth!" A rebel soldier, his powered armor battered and half-destroyed, his body drenched in blood, leaped out of the trench and hurled himself into the mass of enemies.

"Boom!" A blinding flash lit up the sky as flames erupted violently. An caught in the blast was sent flying by the shockwave, crashing to the ground like discarded sacks.

In another trench, its trapezoidal cross-section covered by steel plates, blood smeared the walls. A rebel soldier clutched his bleeding abdomen, forcing a faint smile onto his pale face. "Don’t worry about me—I’m holding on. Save him first…"

Beside him lay a short-statured comrade, his chest riddled with bullets. Blood gushed from the wound, sliding along the folds of his uniform and pooling into a crimson puddle on the ice.

The medic either didn’t hear or was too slow to react, ignoring the injured man’s plea.

"I said, save him first!" the abdominal-wound soldier barked furiously, his movements tearing open the gash further. Blood gushed forth like a fountain…

Casualties mounted. Blood froze into bright red shards on the ground, crushed into fragments by the sleds of passing . Shell casings scattered across the snow, mingling with streaks of bloody ice that shimmered golden under the sunlight.

The government army’s vanguard armored division had pushed to within five kilometers of the base perimeter. The metallic screech of tank wheels grinding against tracks echoed across the battlefield.

The rebels’ situation was dire. Once the frontline defenses fell, the would be exposed to the enemy. At this point, tactics were meaningless. Against tens of thousands of armored vehicles, the base’s meager defensive firepower stood no chance.

Inside the base’s fire control center, artillery operators sweated profusely as calls for support flooded the communication channels.

"Command Center, southwest coordinates 45.03, 47.98—we urgently need artillery support!"

"Command Center, position 46.53, 45.53, altitude 100—take out that !"

"…"

", has detected traces of a . Heading W465, target is our Zone A main cannon," reported a radar operator, his face etched with anxiety.

"What about the ? Intercept it immediately!" Chesterton snapped, watching the tiny red dot on the radar screen grow closer. With the base’s already insufficient defenses, losing the large-caliber railguns in Zone A would allow the government forces’ elite armored units to breach the base completely.

"It’s impossible—it’s past the optimal response time. The missile is moving too fast to intercept," replied the missile defense system operator, sweat dripping from his temples and soaking his collar.

"What do we do?" A sense of helplessness washed over Chesterton.

"Sir… Lieutenant Colonel, it’s… it’s gone! The missile disappeared!" came the startled voice of the radar operator, tinged with disbelief and relief.

"Disappeared? How could a heavy missile designed to strike large ground targets just vanish?" Chesterton frowned, confusion clouding his mind.

"Look, look over there… What… what is that?" A woman’s shocked cry rang out from the corner of the hall.

Chesterton turned to see a dark-skinned girl staring wide-eyed at a secondary monitor.

"Huh?" He glanced up. On the monitor, a massive ball of flames churned violently, thick smoke blanketing much of the sky. Amidst the roaring inferno, a streak of shot across the heavens faster than the eye could follow.

"Oh my God… What is that?" Chesterton’s eyes widened in astonishment. "Nora, adjust the camera angle quickly—track it!"

"Yes, sir!" A female officer rapidly tapped commands into the touchscreen console. The central display flickered, revealing a clearer image for everyone to see.

Through the haze of smoke and fire, ten streaks of azure-blue flame erupted from the mysterious craft, weaving through the air like darting fish. One by one, they struck the enemy aircraft, turning them into burning, smoking wrecks.

The unknown knight of the skies suddenly veered upward, ascending rapidly. Its body spun as dense flashes of cannon fire pierced through the clouds, obliterating another incoming Viper missile in a burst of fiery brilliance. Then, with a swift roll, it vanished into the clouds.

A second later, when it reappeared on the monitors, the gray haze of the clouds shimmered with light. Countless pieces of molten metal rained down from the heavens, trailing flames like a fiery meteor shower.

"Reinforcements… reinforcements! But… where did they come from? Who would help us at a time like this?" Chesterton murmured, his gaze distant and bewildered. Who would dare aid the rebels now?

…

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