Him and their stars.

Chapter 1763: The Tolerance of War
The young adjutant blinked and said seriously, "...Well, I will help you end it at the critical moment?"

Admiral Sylvester coughed loudly, as if he had been posing for a long time but was hit by a passing wild ratman. The tragic feeling he had just accumulated with great difficulty disappeared without a trace.

The admiral took at least five seconds to calm down, and then looked at the young man with a sizing vision. This young lieutenant was only 22 years old, a moon man, a member of the Tiger Talisman Group, a capable, diligent, yet humble and polite young elite. I don't remember him having such a naughty side?

At this time, the adjutant had swiftly opened the hatch behind the commander's room and pushed the general's special mecha over.

"Do I still need you to make the decision? I am also a professional soldier and I have got A in shooting!" the admiral said loudly.

In fact, he hadn't shot anyone himself in at least twenty years, but that wasn't the point. Shooting performance had nothing to do with suicide, but that wasn't the point either.

The important thing is that when the self-righteous tragic mood was swept away, the admiral suddenly found that courage had returned to his body. Now he was full of energy and strength, as if he had just come out of school.

He looked at the adjutant suspiciously again and couldn't help but say, "Boy, this is your true nature, right? It's finally exposed!"

The other party looked at his superior, the chief adjutant who was being bandaged by a medical robot on the ground, and grinned: "In fact, when I was in the lunar military academy, more than one instructor said that I am frivolous by nature. If I don't act, it will be almost impossible for me to become a general before retirement."

This may sound ordinary, but for the Tiger Symbol Group, it can perhaps really be considered self-mockery.

"Oh, you're not going to act anymore?" the Admiral sneered.

"No more acting." The young adjutant reported as he helped the general put on his mecha: "Bombs have been buried in the four main power reactors, three backup power lines, five sub-control rooms, the air treatment core, the water treatment core, and the gravity simulation equipment."

The above are what Admiral Sylvester asked everyone to do. Of course, he didn't make such detailed arrangements, nor did he think of such a large number.

"It wasn't your idea to add so much to the mix, was it?" The admiral had already put on arm armor and boxing gloves, and swung his armored steel fist, which was literally as big as a vinegar jar, at his adjutant.

The adjutant began to put leg armor on the general, and replied: "The Engineering Department is just executing your will to the utmost."

"It feels like my dream has been completely destroyed." Admiral Sylvester muttered in a low voice, and then explained patiently: "I said that I hope to do business well with the Empire. In fact, it is an ideal state. And it was also a thought before the war."

"I believe it." The adjutant said with a smile.

Admiral Sylvester felt the iron boots wrapped around his ankles, and the power device started to work. His entire body was also lifted up a little by the mechanical device, and his vision suddenly became clear.

The general's eyes slid across the railing of the top platform where he was. There used to be a row of Clivia and lucky bamboo there, but now they were all gone.

These green plants were planted by myself, but the daily care work was done by the adjutants. Although it was a bit painful, it didn't make me feel too much.

What really made the admiral feel sad was the set of silver armor with gold edges placed at the entrance of the stairs. The style was very typical of the classical era of the empire. This was given to him by a Bakwi merchant when he had just become the admiral of the Far Shore Fleet and the commander of the military region five years ago.

In fact, everyone knows what is behind the Bakwi businessmen.

The proud masters of Tirello certainly would not come forward to give gifts in person, but they could always find helpers to do the dirty work.

This is also Admiral Sylvester's favorite "decoration". Not only is it elegant in style and majestic in shape, but the material alone also exudes a sense of luxury.

Unfortunately, it had completely fallen apart in the "earthquake" just now, with various parts rolling everywhere, and the luxurious silver surface and gold edges were covered with scratches and stains.

...Well, I should be very distressed, but it seems that my level of distress is limited right now.

Admiral Sylvester looked further away, scanning the terminal operation area on the lower floor, and saw that his subordinates had recovered from the chaos caused by the earthquake. The seriously injured had been taken away by robots and comrades. Those who were only slightly injured had now all returned to their posts.

He shrugged, his eyes finally resting on himself.

In fact, before the war began, he always lacked the sense of being a professional soldier. He always felt that he was more like this fortress, no, the mayor of this space city, who really wanted to guard the shipping routes to the distant coast and do some business with the empire.

Now, this ideal plan has finally been shattered.

He suddenly realized that he, who was about to turn sixty, had actually gained a lot of weight. Although his figure was not bloated or obese, he was certainly not muscular, and the curve of his beer belly was already very obvious.

However, when his bulging and rotten belly was covered by the breastplate held by the adjutant, and when the sense of power was transferred from the fat to the muscles and bones that had not yet completely stiffened through the power device.

He suddenly felt that he was undoubtedly a professional soldier. He did not take out the debugging rifle, but picked up the 20-kilogram high-carbon crystal battle axe from the weapon rack next to him - if there was no mecha, he would be exhausted even if he lifted it with both hands.

Admiral Sylvester swung his heavy and sharp battle axe twice, and suddenly said, "By the way, am I being too unethical by doing this?"

Facing the general's battle axe, the young adjutant blinked his eyes and said, "Sir, you are not a real imperial noble, so what kind of martial ethics can you still talk about?"

Admiral Sylvester was stunned for a moment, then he smiled self-deprecatingly: "Yes, you are damn right. I am not some noble lord. My grandfather's generation was just a dairy farmer in New Rome. Later, I followed Marshal Li to rebel against the empire masters. Hahahaha! How could I forget such a simple thing?"

"...You didn't forget, but you were just not sure whether you should remember it. Now, you finally remembered it." The adjutant explained and pulled out another mecha from the compartment.

"Why do you moon people always speak so harshly?"

"Sir, you are also a lunar person."

"So the version has been updated. The Moon People lately have a strong smell of the Lionheart Society, and each one of them is becoming less and less lovely! As your senior, I am really heartbroken for you!"

"Well, maybe it's because we are all smart people, sir. And it's not just the people on the moon who are like this, sir, far from it." The young adjutant grinned, revealing two rows of shiny front teeth. His smile at this time was simple and kind, and finally matched his real age.

The general looked at him meaningfully and scolded him with a smile, "You dangerous anti-establishment elements. From now on, I don't have to sleep with one eye open, worried about the secret police from the Nationalist Party and the Committee falling from the sky."

"If there really were a secret police, we anti-establishment elements would have thrown them into the reactor in advance."

6◇9◇Book◇Bar

At this moment, the alarm sounded violently in the command room.

"Commander, the enemy is breaking through! Enemy assault landing craft are landing in the A12 and G7 areas of the fortress!"

Admiral Sylvester knocked the battle-axe off his own hand and somewhat awkwardly pulled over the Vulcan cannon that was planted behind him.

"Come on! Guys, be alert! Don't lose face!"

His steps were a little unsteady, and it was obvious that he was not very good at operating the mecha. However, although his figure was crooked, he still moved forward firmly.

The adjutants and guards who were already wearing armor followed closely behind. Even the colonel adjutant who had just had his head bruised, got up without a word, wrapped his head, put on his armor silently, and joined the team silently.

共同历834年5月17日，银河标准时间凌晨3点45分，在经过了长达7个月之久长久对峙和煎熬的拉锯战之后。

The army of the Galactic Empire finally landed on the fortress they had dreamed of day and night.

However, inside the fortress, the street fighting in the space city, which was like a meat grinder, had just begun.

All the harassment and guerrilla warfare that the Imperial Army's landing troops had endured in the maze-like Fortress No. 3 would be repeated in this fortress.

On the other side, when the fleet under the command of King Shazamon razed those mortal fortresses and space stations and completely blocked the two gravity wells, more than 70% of the Earth fleet had already sunk into the starry sky of the Far Shore Nebula and began its long journey home towards the homeland of Community Terra.

Of course, they had to pass through the Far Shore Star Region and the Nantian Gate where a fierce battle was taking place. But now, they had indeed slowly escaped from the enemy's siege that seemed like a dragnet.

Looking at this scene, King Shazamon sighed.

Of course, he just sighed.

"The absolute advantage in military strength can often be reflected in the tolerance of tactics. Of course, I can always convince myself that this is all part of the plan." said the Elector King.

There was total silence all around. Whether His Royal Highness the Elector was making fun of himself or fishing for trouble, this was not something an ordinary officer could talk to.

After a few seconds of silence, just when the adjutant closest to the prince was sweating, he suddenly spoke up and ordered: "Let the reserve fleet behind us start the march. We need to prepare the next battle strategy."

The adjutant seemed relieved and nodded to pass on the order.

King Shazamon opened the terminal and called up the list of generals serving as the reserve in the rear. He quickly scanned the list and immediately stopped at the name of Major General Yeager Sobek.

The Emperor-elect thought for a moment and nodded with satisfaction: "Very good, the talents and energy of outstanding young people should not be wasted on such a rotten war."