Can Ci Pin - - - Chapter 61

Chapter 61 – The Silver Ten

The subordinate looked at him in horror.

Ares Von’s metal fingers scratched eerily against the skin under his subordinate’s chin like a master playing with a cat.

“Why, do you not understand?” he asked.

When the galaxy’s maddest space pirate wasn’t live broadcasting his deeds of blowing up planets, he was like a fragile old man that couldn’t even walk properly without a cane. If one were to cover up his terrible face, his figure would almost seem like a kind elderly man.

“Primal Alien has been a little too spoiled these years, to the point where he’s gotten a little nonsensical. But he’s always known his boundaries.” Ares Von spoke as he tapped his cane on the floor rhythmically, “He disappeared in the wasteland of death, but why? The spatial environment of the wasteland is extremely complex and dangerous, anyone with a functioning brain wouldn’t dare venture into that place alone to chase down their enemy. Even if he had reasons to go, he should’ve at least sent me a message, right? But he didn’t. In other words, he was confident that he wouldn’t lose.”

The subordinate turned to the screen of the battle between the scouting squad and the tiny fleet of mechs. He questioned in surprise: “Like them?”

Within a short span of time, the Self-Defense Squad already saw a loss of a handful of mechs.

Hunting as a wolf in sheep’s clothing happened often in the lawless lands of space pirates, but nobody had ever heard of voluntarily becoming the prey of the hunt. If this was all just playacting, it was far too realistic–or perhaps these mechs were all pilotless machines?

Ares Von ignored his subordinate’s confusion, and mumbled quietly to himself: “How can a fleet as large as that possibly get annihilated to the point where nothing is left? If the enemy didn’t have a superdimensional heavy mech fleet, then it’s possible that Primal Alien was backstabbed by someone…perhaps they blew up the entire nuclear armory of the mech, or a transfer portal level of super high-energy source. But even if a transfer portal were to explode, it isn’t possible to completely wipe out a full fleet; except we never received any alarms or messages from them, which meant that they continued to pursue their enemy even after suffering a large damage to their fleet. Primal Alien isn’t stupid, which only leads to the conclusion that their enemy looked extremely weak, something like this little squad of small mechs.”

Just then, the sound of hasty

footsteps came closer as a man walked right in: “Prince Ares, I heard that your subordinates found an armed…”

“Merciless and manipulating, do you know who this reminds me of? We’ve seen it multiple times in the Union.” Ares Von continued on as if he didn’t notice another person barging in, “Didn’t the Silver Ten run off on their own ever since Lin Jingheng died? They haven’t done anything these years, maybe some of them ended up in the deserted lands of the Eighth Galaxy.”

The man that barged in immediately stopped at this comment, and pronounced loudly: “What are you talking about? The Silver Ten!?”

The intruder was a tall and thin man that looked a little longer than middle aged and was dressed in a way that struck a sharp contrast with the space mech. His long hair that reached down to his waist was tied loosely in a ribbon, and he wore a collared long robe lined with lace along the edges. Beneath the robes were old-fashioned breeches; this outfit was said to be a mix of ancient Baroque style and Eastern Han style that only the most knowledgeable of ancient historians could wear. While it may be uncommon to see anyone dressed like this nowadays, it’s almost a standard in the Anti-Utopia Society. The Society, also known as the A.U.S., were notorious for their obsession with restoring the ancient ways; in order to become closer to nature and the ancients, there are even people that would voluntarily dress themselves as fruits and berries.

“Good evening, Prophet Roye.” Ares Von finally turned around slowly and responded to the intruder. “I don’t think this is a squadron of the Silver Ten, it may only be a few people. Ever since the fall of the Union, the Silver Ten had voiced out their objection against the government once even though they were immediately forced into political compromise. But the Union’s used to playing two-faced with their political opponents, it’s possible that they would take an opportunity to execute their personal vendetta against the Silver Ten and separate the elite force into different galaxies five years later. It wouldn’t be surprising if some of them ended up wandering off to places further out, don’t you think?”

When Ares Von escaped to the outer zones of the eight galaxies, he aligned himself with the infamous Anti-Utopia Society space pirate organization. Unlike most space pirate organizations, faith was the central source of unity within the AUS. Every fleet of the AUS would be overlooked by a ‘Prophet’ from the main headquarters, who was in charge of supervising the fleets and preaching regularly to the space pirates. Their main job however, was to keep an eye on the space pirates under their control and make sure they upheld the Society’s anti-technology teachings.

This “Baroque Hanfu” enthusiast was the commanding Prophet of Prince Cayley’s fleet.

The Prophet’s face darkened as he fell into a moment of thinking, then responded in agreement: “Yes, your reasoning is correct. We’ve entered the Eighth Galaxy for quite some time now, and if it really was a squadron of the Silver Ten, they would’ve already turned the entire galaxy upside-down instead of hiding in the dark. Prince Ares, what are you planning on doing?”

Ares Von lifted an eyebrow, drawing a hint of bloodthirst onto his calm face: “Blow them up, of course.”

The Prophet stood dumbly for a few moments before he remembered that this madman in front of him had a history of blowing up three planets in a row, and felt a headache come on: “No, you can’t do that. The upper level is very interested in the missing Silver Ten, so if your theory is correct, this may be the only chance we have to obtain information from them – you must not kill them!”

Ares Von licked his dry lips without a word.

From his expression, the Prophet knew that it was useless to try and talk logic with him. As if scared of having his skin bitten off, the Prophet gestured towards the Prince and said, “You stay here then and don’t move, I’ll bring some men and handle this myself.”

Ares Von’s expression grew grim and turned coldly towards the Prophet: “And what do you mean by this?”

“I’m not trying to steal your spotlight, we’re a team together.” The Prophet’s voice softened as he sincerely gave a pat on Ares Von’s shoulders, “The last time you took revenge, the Society had lots of complaints that your action was too extreme, so I took it up for you because I understand you. So now, can you also try and understand me? If we lose our only clue here, I won’t be able to report back to the top, my friend.”

Ares Von gave him a short glance as his gaze softened up. He then reluctantly returned a small touch on the Prophet’s shoulders with the back of his hand and said: “My friend.”

The Prophet smiled and said: “For life and nature.”

Ares Von’s expression darkened as he mumbled back: “……Life and nature.”

The Prophet turned and ran out the door to summon his men, in fear that the only clue he had to the Silver Ten would get destroyed within the next minute. After hearing the Prophet take off with his squad, Ares Von’s helpless expression from before slowly turned into a haunting smile. He turned toward the subordinate at his side and said, “I heard the followers of this shady cult always gather around to meditate, but aren’t they just smoking pot?”

His subordinate responded: “Yes, they said it could help them concentrate during meditation and reach the ultimate truth.”

“No wonder their brains are becoming more dysfunctional.” Ares Von chuckled softly, “Since the ‘sacrificial lamb’ already volunteered themselves into the position, then let them lure out the bigger prey. We’ll see who we manage to bring out, and we’ll take the rest of the loot.”

It was past 1 A.M. at night, and the new year arrived suddenly but quietly during this time of chaos. Through the mental network, Lu Bixing could see the Model 3 not too far off behind him. The large body of the heavy mech was almost like a mini planet that a small mech could hide behind.

Lu Bixing was sure that Lin knew what he was going to say back in his room. He closed his eyes and replayed the scene in his head; he was sitting in Lin’s room, and the alarm suddenly went off while he was talking. The man before him held his hand down and interrupted him. Rethinking about it now, that person also seemed like he was trying to stay calm, his expression also showed a hint of panic and unease.

Panic…what kind of response was this?

Lu Bixing used to firmly believe that Lin Jingheng had a crush on him, but after thinking it through calmly, perhaps he was wrong this whole time.

An old question that he’d thought had died off resurrected in his mind. Lu Bixing thought: “Am I really getting too ahead of myself? Well, that’d be a little awkward.”

Just then, Foucault’s message came in and dragged his consciousness back to reality. Lu Bixing rubbed his face and swallowed his own awkwardness: “Hey, I’m here.”

Foucault’s face popped up on his screen. While she was still less than 200 years old and looked relatively young, the wrinkles around her eyes revealed her age.

“You didn’t arrange for the residents on the station to relocate,” Foucault said. “Is it because you believe we can fight off this wave of pirates?”

“I’d like to answer yes,” Lu Bixing responded with a forced smile. “But even if did say that you wouldn’t believe me, right?”

“I’m not young anymore, so I’ll be straight with you. Don’t try and fool me with those words you use with Saturday and the young ones.” Foucault’s eyes curved a little into a slight smile, then immediately disappeared as she continued. “The population of the station is a little less than a million people, that’s too many. We don’t have a large starship for travel, and even with the mechs and merchant ships combined, we’d be lucky to be able to even take a fourth of the population. The pirates aren’t going to let us go that easily, so the majority of the people are going to be left on the station, right?”

Lu Bixing let out a long sigh. While the youth were busy chasing their dreams, the elderly were the ones that would calculate the cost of protecting their own homes. Lu Bixing responded: “You’re right, Miss Foucault, it’s an accurate estimate.”

Foucault asked: “So you didn’t say anything because you think it’s too cruel?”

“No.” Lu Bixing shook his head. Suddenly he was no longer that friendly ‘Professor Lu’ that most people knew him as. ‘Professor Lu’ was a model teacher and person, always positive and full of energy, ready to pour out some soup of the day to any starving student that would buy into his pep talk about becoming successful in life.

The Lu Bixing now was an objective audience that was almost even a little cold and detached. He paused for a few moments before finally speaking: “The pirates came too quickly, it’s too late to even fabricate a beautiful lie. If even one single person notices the problem you just pointed out, the station is done for good. Nobody can handle the situation down there; we won’t even need to wait for the pirates to come, they’ll self-destruct on their own…Spencer must’ve also considered this problem, which was why he left the merchant ships there without even bothering to keep up with their maintenance, because he knew everyone was done for.”

“Spencer is a smart man, but sometimes a little too smart…Anyway,” Foucault’s expression grew more serious. “I don’t think there’s only one wave of space pirates – if the scouts all get annihilated, the bigger fleets will come in after them. I’ve been to the black markets of the outer zones many times, so I know how they are. If we go against the pirates, there would be no way we could win. Professor Lu, you’ve already made the decision for us, so can you tell us how we can survive when we hit the frontlines?”

Lu Bixing gave her a long look and said, “Miss, did you speak with Weasel already?”

Just then, Weasel’s communication connected into their channel: “Professor Lu, you’re the one that created the anti-detection system. Nobody knows it better than you, so we’ll listen to everything you say.”

Lu Bixing paused for a moment, then asked: “You will obey unconditionally?”

Under the pressure of life-threatening danger, Weasel and Foucault gave each other a glance and nodded in unison.

“I’ll need you guys to listen to Commander Lin’s arrangements,” Lu Bixing said. “It doesn’t matter if his commands are unreasonable, don’t doubt him and carry out the orders immediately. He may not be able to save everyone’s lives, but he will be able to minimize the death count.”

Weasel hesitated a little and noted: “About that…Professor Lu, I don’t think I’m in the right place to say this but…Commander Lin, he’s a great commander, y’know, an aristocrat from Wolto. He doesn’t…he doesn’t seem like someone that would really care about our lives…”

“He took you guys out because he’s treating you all as his soldiers.” Lu Bixing said “It doesn’t matter whether he’s a passionate person or a cold or antisocial person, anyone that doesn’t care about their soldiers’ lives can maybe become a suicide squad captain, but they can’t possibly become a commander of the Union. Let’s not even talk about how anyone could manage a battle record at that point; I think this is pretty logical, right?”

Foucault and Weasel were sold immediately by this objective opinion.

“But while the casualty rate is just a number, to you guys, a destroyed mech is almost a guaranteed death for you. Be careful of missiles.” Lu Bixing pulled up the navigational map, “The transfer portal up front is the last point of transfer – is everyone ready?”

Ten sailing days away, the last ship of the pirate scouts fell.

Saturday’s mech took a direct hit from a flying piece of the broken pirate mech and sounded the warning alarm. He stood blankly inside the cockpit of his mech as the buzzing alarm of the mech pierced through his eardrums with endless recitals of the damage report.

“Self-defense squad…” Saturday’s voice was husk and dry. “Self-defense squad, report in by numerical order.”

The reporting generally went in numerical order from lowest number to highest; if no response was given within 10 seconds, the next number would call in for the missing ship. Lu Bixing once taught them that this was apparently a common method used by official fleets to count up damage; however, nobody had ever used it in practice.

“Self-Defense Number 1, I’m Saturday. Mech shield’s broken, the engine damage is up to 60%. Missiles are all gone and I don’t have any energy left to use the particle cannons.”

The communication channel went silent. Nobody followed up after him.

A horrifying thought struck Saturday’s mind as his heart clenched.

The ten seconds felt like an eternity, like a lifetime.

A member of the squad slowly spoke up in the channel: “Self-Defense Number 3, luckily only suffered minor scratches and still have two missiles left…I…I will check in place of Number 2. Number 2, are you still here?”

The Self-Defense Squad was not familiar with the rules of check-in, and held onto a slim hope that someone would answer; yet as time ticked away, Number 2 was still dead silent. The member that called earlier finally continued: “Number 2 has been shot down, Comrade Holiday…is missing.”

They didn’t have the powerful technology of Eden, therefore everyone that crashed with their mech can only receive a ‘missing’ status in the open space.

“Number 6 checking in for Number 5…”

“Number 11 checking in for Number 10…”

Of the thirty members in the Self-Defense Squad, twelve mechs were lost in the last battle. The remaining half of the squad were still stuck in the void of outer space with no time to mourn.

“Send a message to the station, tell them that the scouting squad has been eliminated, we saved….” Saturday spoke up.

“Saturday!” A member interrupted, “Look at the anti-detection radar, look!”

Saturday turned his head back immediately towards the little monitor on his mech. A crowd of tiny dots shifted towards their direction, indicating that a fleet of mechs were coming their way. The number of mechs only continued to increase until a corner of the screen was only filled with enemy mechs.

The squad had just climbed over the mountain of adversity and found themselves kneeling in exhaustion at the mercy of fate, only to find that fate was not merciful to them.

The main pirate fleet had found them.

It was dead silent inside the communication channel. For a second, Saturday recalled his naive proclamation in the past about how he would rather die on the battlefield than run away like a coward; his naivety now felt like a fleeting dream.

“Why was I so foolish?” Saturday questioned himself.

Saturday cleared his throat and spoke up into the channel: “We only have 18 mechs left on our side, with only 8 of them still in shape for combat. We have a total of 11 missiles left and 4 active particle cannons; if we continue the way we fought before we would only last one round of combat…the enemies are still coming in but we’re almost out of ammo, there’s no point to hide and fight guerilla. Our only choice is to fight them head on or run.”

The frontline of the pirate fleet was already visible through the mental network.

“But I still…” Saturday’s voice trembled after a long pause. “I still don’t want to give up, I want to keep trying and live like a man just a little longer. The pirates will need to break the outermost security of the anti-detection system before they can keep moving forward. We’re the first line of defense here, so that means even if they cracked the code, they’ll still have to get past me before going in, what do you guys say?”

Saturday clenched his teeth as he spoke and continued without waiting for a response: “The shield and armory of mech Number 1 are completely dead, so you guys can hide behind me. The closest transfer portal to us right now is portal 0023 and the security lock is still intact. You’re free to escape through the portal after you’re out of ammo, and everyone else…you all can choose what to do.”

Saturday dragged his mech off with only one functioning engine on the side as he spoke. The engine light glistened on the tiny oval body of the mech like a fragile candle light in the darkness stubbornly burning against the wind and refusing to die out.

Soon after, an equally beaten-up mech followed behind him. Then a second, a third…

Within a matter of minutes, all ten of the mechs with completely empty armories sailed towards Saturday’s side without any hesitation.

A flood of emotions surged as Saturday sent out the coordinates to his teammates. There were no more words left to say, it was time to enter the battlefield once again.

The pirates didn’t waste any time and charged forward speedily. The little dots on the monitor slowly turned into silhouettes of mechs as the fleet closed in, and the alerts from their high energy broke over the mechs like a tsunami.

A short while later, the long-range telescope of the missiles could already lock on individual pirate mechs. Unlike the scouting squad from before, there were no small-sized mechs in this fleet: the trailblazers were all mid-sized combat mechs followed by a number of heavy mechs behind them with the main navy.

The alarms on all the Self-Defense Squad mechs rang almost at the same time to indicate that they had been locked on by enemy missiles.

Saturday accelerated right into the enemy fleet. When mechs got destroyed, the remnant pieces of the mech would create a physical blockade on the screens of the enemies and emit a strong energy wave that would disrupt the radar system. During this time, the last remaining missiles from the Self-Defense Squad could be fired all at once, aiming to take down at least one mech…

It was almost laughable, because only invaluable treasures have guards that would protect up until deaths. Yet would anyone even protect a dumpster like the space station? Was there any reason to?

The enemy fired at the Self-Defense Squad.

Saturday closed his eyes and expanded his senses through the vast web of the mental network, feeling like he’d finally reached his end.

Suddenly, the alarm within the mech silenced.

Confused, Saturday thought: “Did I get hit?”

Yet when he opened his eyes, the bright light of the missile explosions expanded right before his eyes. A wave of missiles from behind Saturday reached out and blocked out the vicious attack from the pirate fleet just outside of their vision.

Within the next moment, countless small-scale mechs lined up to open up a giant wall around the Self-Defense Squad, shielding them from the explosions like the time they blocked off the high energy wave last time.

At the same time, Lin Jingheng’s calm voice rang within the communication channel: “Patrol team’s damage rate is too high, retreat through portal 0023.”

Saturday felt his eyes watering up.

The Model 3 accelerated at an alarming speed, already capturing the frontline of the pirate fleet into the range of Zhanlu’s mental network before the Self-Defense Squad could even act on the retreat order. The frontline of the pirate fleet fell immediately like weeds being mowed on a grassfield, but Lin Jingheng didn’t stop there; he didn’t wait for the copilots to attempt retrieving their hacked mental networks and pulled out on his own. The delay in reconnection then forcefully stopped the movements of the pirate mechs, who were immediately greeted with a wave of particle cannons and missiles from the station’s armed forces.

While the hit rate of the armed forces was much lower than a proper military unit, the large target and forced stall by Commander Lin managed to make up a bit of this problem.

At this time, a communication request was sent to the Model 3.

Zhanlu: “Sir, the pirates wish to…”

Lin Jingheng interrupted him: “I’m not chatting with them, retreat!”

The armed forces of the space station were always more diligent when it came to retreating than charging into battle. At Lin Jingheng’s command, the entire fleet disappeared into the web of the anti-detection system like a crowd of fish swimming off into the depths of the ocean.

The Prophet of the AUS pounded the table in fury and demanded: “Scan the unlocked transfer portal and charge forward, use force to drag out these cowards!”

“You, what’s your name…” Lin Jingheng said, “Wednesday or Friday or whatever, give me access to your mental network.”

Forced into a weekday without permission, Saturday didn’t dare to argue and immediately handed over his network in fear that Commander Lin would take it by force. The route of combat from the previous battle with the scouting squad recorded on Saturday’s mech appeared immediately on the Model 3.

Lin Jingheng took a quick glance and commanded: “Prepare to warp through portal 0078. Turn off all your missiles and use particle cannons.”

The pirate fleet pushed towards the direction of the known transfer portal like a bulldozer. With the command of the Prophet, a few dozen missiles fired directly towards the portal. The high energy concentrated within the area created a chain effect that disrupted the camouflage of the anti-detection system, and leaked a hidden route at that instant.

Before the pirates could make a move, the station’s armed forces suddenly appeared from another hidden portal and fired at the side of the pirate fleet.

Hundreds of small particle cannons merged into a large wave of high-energy blast that shot directly towards the pirates. Unlike missiles, particle waves were less likely to be affected by energy disturbances and had a higher hit-rate for more inexperienced soldiers.

As if a violent wave overturned the current, the side wing of the pirate fleet was immediately swallowed up by the attack. Yet once again, the enemies delved back into the anti-detection system before the pirates could react.

This was what real

guerilla warfare looked like.

Inside the communication channel of the armed forces, a loud burst of cheering exploded from the group of delinquents that’d never tasted sweet victory on a real battlefield. The members of the armed forces began chatting loudly about their success earlier against the pirates.

Yet nobody expected the alarms on their mechs to suddenly sound the alert

that they’ve been locked on by a missile.

Lin Jingheng said coldly: “Haven’t learned communication etiquette yet? The next person that makes another sound can eat a missile from me.”

The channel became dead silent.

At the same time, Lu Bixing covered his face in his palms and screamed internally in defeat: “Who cares if it’s awkward now!”

Because at this rate, even if he completely misunderstood his crush in the beginning and got ahead of himself, he no longer wanted to let go of this feeling.