Otaku Translation: Carrying the Bases of Starcraft C180

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Chapter 180: The Final Battle of Krotan (Part 7)

Before setting out, had heard a rumor: an entire squadron of dispatched from the to support the vanguard battalion had been wiped out—none returned.

Initially, he dismissed it as nonsense. How could a ragtag bunch of rebels possibly annihilate an entire squadron of assault aircraft? It was impossible. A rumor, nothing more—a baseless lie spread by fools. If he were the commanding officer, he’d have shot such troublemakers dead on the spot and sent them straight to hell.

But now, he believed it—completely. Stealth, speed, firepower, and pilots with unparalleled skill—facing such opponents was sheer misfortune for his men.

"All squads, coordinate! Maximize radar output and combine it with infrared search and laser targeting. Fire back… fire back!"

"No... no, Captain, the enemy has split us up! We can’t maintain formation."

As his subordinate's panicked voice crackled through the comm, two streaks of light zipped past him. Gritting his teeth, Macaulay yanked the control stick, spinning his fighter around to chase an enemy plane.

"Boom, boom." Two flashes erupted behind him—one from Deputy Captain Frank, the other from Augustus.

"Damn it, damn it! You bastards!" Macaulay snarled, his face contorted in rage. Ahead of him, an enemy plane was climbing rapidly.

He pushed his speed beyond the sound barrier, barely managing to lock onto the enemy’s tail. At , shockwaves rippled across the wings, and compressed air friction caused the entire aircraft to shudder violently.

The supersonic warning lights on the dashboard lit up, but Macaulay ignored them. There was no turning back now. He increased the thruster power, pushing the speed higher: , Mach 1.8, Mach 2, Mach 2.4...

The combat display trembled, the cockpit vibrated, and the altitude indicator climbed steadily: 10,000 feet, 20,000 feet, 30,000 feet...

Macaulay clenched his jaw, pushing his reflexes, focus, and mental acuity to their absolute limits. Drawing on his years of experience as a pilot far surpassing most, he fought to stabilize the aircraft. He refused to believe the enemy was invincible. He would break this myth and avenge his fallen comrades.

He was a man who accepted life as it came, content with the status quo—but that didn’t make him a coward. Even at his age, he still possessed the fiery determination and drive of youth. Today, he was all in. He wouldn’t rest until he destroyed the enemy plane above him.

The air grew thinner, and the altitude alarm began to blare: 100,000 feet, 120,000 feet, 130,000 feet, 150,000 feet. As the light outside dimmed, the fighter left and entered , operating at its extreme limits.

The dashboard’s warning lights illuminated his helmet display. The aircraft’s speed had reached a terrifying and continued to climb. The vibrations grew worse, and fuel consumption skyrocketed.

The enemy plane kept climbing, and Macaulay followed, his altitude indicator rising higher and higher. Behind him, the blue sky receded, and sunlight refracted through , painting a dazzling rainbow.

"Huff, huff..." His heavy breathing echoed in his ears. The fuel gauge blinked a warning. His reckless pursuit had consumed too much fuel. Even if he caught up to the enemy, he might not have enough to return.

Should he continue or retreat? They were about to leave the mesosphere and enter the thermosphere. This was an atmospheric fighter, not a spacecraft—it wasn’t designed for space combat. But how could he let the enemy escape?

As Macaulay wrestled with his decision, an unexpected twist left him stunned. It felt like God was playing a cruel, vulgar joke on him. The enemy had toyed with him, treating him like a cat playing with a mouse, watching him risk everything in a desperate chase.

In the distance, the enemy’s thrusters flared, and the plane’s speed surged tenfold, approaching . In the blink of an eye, it became a tiny dot overhead.

Staring into the vast, dark expanse of space, Macaulay tasted despair for the first time. All this time, the enemy had treated him like an angry Chihuahua, toying with him effortlessly.

Was that even a fighter? Or was it an ? What were those idiots in command thinking? Why hadn’t they warned them about the terrifying enemy they faced?

Why? The answer was obvious. Macaulay didn’t want to think too poorly of command, but...

"Beep, beep, beep." The early warning system sounded an alarm.

Macaulay snapped back to reality. In the panoramic view provided by his helmet, a streak of azure descended like dawn, flashing past in an instant.

Then, a violent tremor shook the fuselage, and a blinding explosion engulfed his vision. A deafening roar filled the sky as flames swept through the cockpit like a raging hurricane.

Macaulay saw the distant brilliance of the sun, the wispy clouds drifting over the planet’s surface, his wife gently caressing her belly, and the child yet to be born...

"Huff, huff..." His breathing slowed, colors faded, and eventually, only darkness and cold remained.

---

While 150 clashed with an enemy force ten times their number, the unleashed its defensive interceptors to meet the government’s barrage of .

Explosions lit up the southwestern sky, forming a fiery tide. Burning fragments rained down like waterfalls. Intersecting barrages of missiles created overlapping shockwaves that twisted into massive tornadoes, radiating outward in all directions.

Some missiles that slipped through the defenses, pushed by turbulent air currents, failed to correct their trajectories and crashed into the snowy ground around the base. Their explosions ignited fierce flames, melting ice and sending plumes of smoke billowing into the air.

"Boom, boom, boom..." Proximity mines triggered by the shockwaves locked onto targets and detonated, colliding with enemy missiles.

The entire sky above the base seemed to rain fire. Occasionally, fragments struck the base facilities, scattering debris everywhere.

The flashes and trails of fire in the sky merged into a dazzling spectacle, brighter than the dawn breaking over the horizon. The difference was stark: one symbolized death, the other hope.

Regardless of the outcome of the missile battle, the armored divisions pressed forward relentlessly, now just 50 kilometers from the base’s outer defenses.

Plasma balls fired by Siege Tanks arced through the sky, landing densely at the front lines of the enemy formations.

Splashing plasma ignited a fiery hell within a hundred-meter radius, with thermal radiation and splash damage extending hundreds of meters. The first wave alone destroyed nearly 300 armored vehicles.

However, after this initial shock, the enemy adapted. They abandoned their tight formations and switched to wider intervals, accelerating their charge. From all four directions—east, west, south, and north—steel floods surged toward the missile base like a breached dam.

Fifty kilometers wasn’t far, but it wasn’t close either. Light troop carriers could breach the distance in about twenty minutes. The rebel soldiers at the frontlines stood ready, while rear cannons and Siege Tanks poured high-explosive shells onto the advancing government forces.

Finally, the first Saber-Tooth breached the buffer zone. The Widow Mines remained silent. A second Saber-Tooth followed, and still, the mines did nothing. More Saber-Tooths and armed motorcycles equipped with small cluster rockets poured through the buffer zone, yet the Widow Mines stayed eerily quiet.

It wasn’t until the frontline erupted in gunfire and combat broke out across the battlefield—when Hellion tanks and bio-units joined the fight—that the 17 Widow Mines finally revealed their fangs.

"Boom, boom, boom..." Almost simultaneously, 17 blinding flashes lit up the night sky. Mushroom clouds merged into a continuous line, encircling the missile base in a halo of destruction.

Within the absolute kill radius of the Widow Mines, 180 Rhino tanks, nearly 300 armored vehicles, over 200 motorcycles, and thousands of mechanized infantry were instantly incinerated, scattered by the explosive shockwaves. The scorching blast blew away countless Earth Knight infantry, motorcycles, and even light vehicles. Even the 60-ton Rhino main battle tanks were flipped upside-down, helpless like turtles unable to right themselves despite their spinning treads.

Soldiers cried, wailed, and prayed. Junior officers shouted curses, threats, and commands. Higher-ranking commanders barked orders and roared in anger. The cacophony resembled chaotic heavy metal rock music, reverberating through every communication channel.

Blood and corpses, fire and wreckage—these were the only sights on this scorched earth.

The explosions carved a vacuum of destruction through the enemy ranks. The once relentless assault faltered, and government morale plummeted.

Why? Everyone who survived asked themselves this question. Why had the explosions happened so suddenly?

Mine-detection equipment hadn’t warned them. Infrared detectors hadn’t warned them. Electromagnetic scanners hadn’t warned them. Not even the radioactive material detection systems had shown any reaction before the blasts.

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