Him and their stars.

Chapter 2107 Gene Primitive Lady Fei

General Parosson's words brought a brief silence to the room.

For the proud officers of the Imperial fleet, there was no reason not to annihilate the enemy. Moreover, setting aside the Enlightened One warship, the Earthlings' fleet in this star system numbered at most one-tenth of their own.

Yes, this fleet might be the only mobile force the Galactic Empire has left, and most of its warships are "rookies" that have just completed testing. But so what?
They have always been part of the Empire's invincible Imperial Guard, and they should inherit the spirit of always fighting the enemy.

It's still a long way off before a decisive victory is decided. Although we're constantly being attacked, we're not entirely without a chance of winning. Are we really going to retreat now?
A year ago, just those words would have been enough to provoke the officers' discontent. While the disciplined Imperial Army wouldn't kill their superiors and run away, righteous and stern remonstrance would certainly have been unavoidable.

The silence continued, and not a single person showed any defiance before the Commander. Many felt humiliated but helpless, and quite a few even felt a sense of relief.

When exactly did the glorious Imperial Space Fleet change?

Just then, beams of light shot from the opposite direction poured down like a torrential downpour, as dense as festive fireworks, yet with the efficiency of death.

Fortunately, this time it wasn't the "Ghost's" arc cannon, but only the ion secondary cannon.

Unfortunately, the opponent's ion cannon was unusually accurate.

"Cruiser Nazarick 14 heavily damaged... Communications silent." The report echoed monotonously over the communication channel. It was less calm and more numb.

Of course, since the ghost's ion cannons can already fire, it means that our own attacking fleet can also reach the enemy.

In fact, during that brief exchange of fire, our battlecruisers fired more than forty shots, and we can confirm that they hit the enemy ship at least three times.

Although the terrifying "ghost" still seemed unharmed, since it had been hit, there was still a chance of victory.

Yet, at this moment, a sense of sorrow still emanated from every Imperial officer.

"We are His Majesty the Emperor's soldiers!" the chief of staff exclaimed.

“We certainly do,” said Admiral Parosson. “That’s why we need to look after the future of the Empire during these turbulent times!”

The term "turbulent times" or "great upheaval" seems to be slowly becoming the consensus among the empire's upper echelons, but they themselves don't seem to be quite sure when it started.

"Understood," the chief of staff responded on behalf of everyone.

"Very good. Use this ship as the rearguard. Have the Light Spear main guns bombard the Ghost continuously to force it not to approach. It will understand the situation. The rest of the warships, according to the tactics of Group 7, orderly withdraw from the combat zone." Admiral Paroson began to give orders. At this point, the general still showed the responsibility of a commander and prepared to personally cover the rear.

Everyone sprang into action. Their current performance...

"Then, what about His Highness Prince Wei..." the chief of staff asked in a low voice.

“He will come back. Even if he doesn’t, he’ll always find a way to escape. We are all mortals, why should we worry about the Dragon King’s power?” the general said.

That makes a lot of sense, but there's a lingering resentment that's hard to shake off.

The admiral then asked, "What about the mobile fleet? What are the losses?"

"We lost one light cruiser and two destroyers, and one aircraft carrier was damaged. The main losses were in aircraft... However, we also shot down at least 100 Earthling aircraft."

"Useless." The short Admiral Paroson slammed his saber on the floor. "Tell them to come back quickly. Meet us in the star system near T3."

At the same moment, aboard the USS Enterprise, Horatio Wayne received a similar report from his subordinates: "These are our losses. After this battle, the Empire will never dare to engage us in aerial combat again unless they have more than three times our strength."

"We still lost 97 fighter jets!" Wayne looked down at his battle report. "I thought that with the Bifang system's enhancement, the losses would be smaller, at least kept below 50."

Mihir Kent looked at his friend, pondered for a moment, and then couldn't help but chuckle: "Commander Yu is right, you're actually much more radical and arrogant than him at heart!"

Wayne's eyes widened, feeling somewhat offended. He considered himself a very humble person, a die-hard fan of big guns and battleships at heart, but knowing that the future might truly be the era of light-winged fighters, he put aside all his obsessions and started to think of new tactics from scratch.

The objective conditions also provided this guy with the opportunity to conduct tactical experiments.

For the first time, they possessed the Crimson Ghost fighter jet, whose performance overwhelmingly surpassed that of Imperial weapons. For the first time, they also had the Bifang system, so advanced it was a dimension ahead of their time. These two surprises arriving simultaneously naturally created even greater joy. Such happiness would, of course, accumulate, creating a dreamlike period of bliss.

Why... oops, nothing unexpected happened. Overall, Horatio Wayne's tactical experiment was a success.

The defensive fleet, led by the Aurora, remained steadfastly positioned around the carriers, refusing to disband despite the Imperial fleet's long-range bombardment. They successfully fulfilled their role as main tanks.

Meanwhile, the core of the fleet, led by three large fleet carriers and four light carriers, always hovered on the edge of the battlefield, maintaining a considerable distance from the main force of the Imperial mobile fleet—a distance that made Imperial captains feel frantic and even desperate.

It was just beyond the optimal range of most Imperial heavy cruisers' main guns, so that most of the fierce firepower could only futilely cut through the void, at most grazing the shields of Earth warships and creating negligible force field ripples.

Of course, sublight-speed missiles could reach them, but they were indeed easily intercepted by experienced Earth cruisers and destroyers—with the tactical links and shared data provided by the Silent One, even these grunt warships demonstrated elite-level shelling accuracy.

If this continues, it will nothing more than a wasteful game of hide-and-seek, wasting energy and ammunition. In the three-thousand-year history of interstellar warfare, there are countless examples of this. The only effective damage each side can inflict is probably the mental pollution caused by the various vulgarities exchanged over communication channels.

However, with the Lightwing fighter jet, that's a different story.

Wayne's real trump card was the swarm of carrier-based aircraft that constantly took off and landed from the aircraft carrier's hangar, like a pack of wolves. More than two thousand fighter jets, along with an even larger number of unmanned wingmen, were organized by Horatio Wayne into four attack waves.

One wave of attack, one wave of advance, one wave of return, one wave of preparation.

In this way, the attack echelon, like a constantly rolling wheel, maintained constant pressure on the Imperial fleet.

“I call it ‘Car Suspension.’” Wayne gave the new fighter jet tactic such a mysterious and impressive name.

"A car? And it's still in a precarious situation? It's got that same kind of mystifying stuff from the Eight Feudatories' hometown!"

Of course, despite all this esoteric explanation, it all boils down to a technical issue.

Each Earth fighter jet is reinforced by at least two to three Bifang robots. These furry, round robots look like pets, but they are perhaps the most versatile and efficient tactical robots. They are like round-headed, rolling robots from another universe, ready to repair damage to the fighter jet at any time, and occasionally help the pilot correct the trajectory, adjust the cruise path, and avoid enemy shells.

In the hangar, with the help of bouncy robots, the maintenance technicians' work efficiency has increased by several orders of magnitude.

Although it was described as a four-wave attack, the pressure on the Imperial forces was relentless. Even with a fleet far exceeding that of Earthlings, and even with the deployment of their most advanced Titanium Blade fighters, the Imperial forces could only maintain a stalemate. They couldn't even stop some Earth fighters from protecting torpedo ships across the brutal battlefield and reaching their own fleet to deliver torpedo strikes.

Of course, after being hit by torpedoes so many times, even the Imperial fighters, who numbered like dinosaurs, knew to deploy their air defenses in advance. These torpedo ships, after all, couldn't get into the best torpedo positions, so their attack effectiveness was indeed less than satisfactory.

Since they were already there, the fighter jets didn't miss any opportunity to attack. Like annoying gadflies, they kept swooping down and strafing the outer escort ships of the Imperial fleet and harassing them with missiles.

They did indeed achieve many victories. One of their fighters even launched its own short-range missile into the open runway of an Imperial warship, successfully creating an extraordinary "shotdown."

However, the greatest losses to Earth's fighter jets were also caused during these charges.

"So, in a battle against an enemy force twice our size, we lost 50 aircraft, and the other half of those losses were caused by the enemy fleet's air defense network?" Wayne asked.

Kent nodded: "To be precise, it was caused during the forced breakthrough of the outer fire network."

"That was my mistake. We should have made arrangements in advance: after a single strike, whether it hit or not, none of the fighters should linger. They should immediately use their high maneuverability to retreat, rejoin the formation, and prepare for the next attack. Yes, this must be recorded so that it won't be repeated," Wayne admitted.

Although he was an arrogant red-haired prince, he was at least adept at admitting his mistakes when it came to war, and even more adept at reviewing and summarizing them.

He pondered, "Does this mean that if a well-organized fleet is prepared for battle, a surprise attack or torpedo strike by a light-wing fighter might not be fatal? Does the arrival of the aircraft carrier era, as the boss mentioned, still need time to develop?"

Wayne shook his head: "Quite the opposite. The fact that more than a hundred light cruisers and destroyers were in such a sorry state when faced with an equal number of fighter jets breaking through their defenses proves precisely the arrival of the fighter jet era."

"Are your favorite cannons and warships about to retire from the stage of history?"

Wayne paused slightly, then a visibly red glow flashed across his face: "Or rather, quite the opposite. If I had another thirty cruisers, even if it were only half the strength of the opposing Imperial Japanese forces, it would be enough. With the new firepower system, the more accurate support artillery fire would completely disrupt the enemy's deployment, creating better opportunities for our fighter jets to penetrate and infiltrate. How could we talk about them being phased out?"

"So, does that mean that heavy artillery and warships will have to play a supporting role to fighter jets?"

“How can this be considered a supporting role? Depending on the enemy's movements, the supporting artillery bombardment can turn into a devastating bombardment at any time. It can only be said that they complement each other and serve each other! It should be said that with advanced fighter jets, we have more tactical options.” Wayne tried very hard to explain:
"Of course, in the context of future warfare, overly large warships are indeed more likely to be targeted by concentrated fire. Perhaps the future of smaller warships that the boss mentioned will arrive sooner than expected."

Kent didn't argue, but gloated, "If that's really the case, the hundreds of giant ships that the Empire and the Alliance are still building on the slipways will probably be obsolete before they even leave the dock! In comparison, our community will suffer the least loss."

"You mean to say that our community no longer has much shipbuilding capacity, so there are no losses?"

These two childhood friends, who had known each other since kindergarten, were surprised to discover for the first time that the other had a talent for telling outrageous jokes. They couldn't help but lament how the times have changed them.

“Fortunately, we were only able to build cruisers on the shipyards in New China. Of the few Class A shipyards that were just laid out, we only started construction on four Enterprises,” Wayne said.

“Isn’t this a testament to the leader’s foresight?” Kent said.

Wayne couldn't help but get goosebumps: "That guy... our superior is right, Michael, you're actually more suited to politics than the military."

"How did you know I wanted to retire after this battle? The position of Minister of Internal Affairs of the New Shenzhou Star Region was prepared for me."

The two stopped talking and watched as the imperial mobile fleet of over a hundred ships began to retreat, increasing the distance between them and moving towards a certain cosmic point, thus widening the gap between the two sides.

The two sides fought fiercely for four or five hours. The loss of a few warships seemed insignificant at first glance, but the Imperial fleet was indeed in a sorry state, with nowhere to turn for help and a sense of desolation.

After the Earthlings maximized their advantages in distance and maneuverability, constantly luring, harassing, and wearing down the Imperial fleet, it was like a bull being teased until it was bleeding profusely by a nimble matador. Fortunately, they were far smarter than bulls, and managed to escape before being utterly exhausted and pierced through the heart by a single sword.

Compared to the extraordinary battles within the fortress and the legendary clash between the Enlightened Ones and the Titans, this carrier battle was indeed rather insignificant. Perhaps only the most cutting-edge and perceptive military theorists would realize its historical significance, but at least for this moment, it was merely an interlude in this great war.

Deep within the fortress, Yu Lian, who had just reached an elevator entrance, paused slightly.

Although he had not witnessed the battle outside firsthand, his broader "cosmic intuition" had already extended to all the surrounding battlefields. In a sense, compared to the enemy psionicists who were right next to him inside the fortress, he was better able to grasp the movements of the Imperial fleet hundreds of millions of kilometers away, or even astronomical units away.

Now, he could clearly sense that the Imperial fleet, including the Abyss Dragon, was completely withdrawing from the battlefield.

"Heh...the battle outside is over!" He chuckled softly, but his tone carried a hint of sympathy: "But, Brother Wei Wang hasn't boarded the ship yet! He hasn't boarded the ship yet! He really hasn't boarded the ship yet, has he?"

"He just boarded the ship; he used a spatial portal to get there."

As soon as she finished speaking, Fei Fei's figure appeared in front of Ah. Her girl seemed to be a ghost who was used to scaring people, and walked straight through the wall, but after a flash, her body solidified from the phantom.

Yu Lian opened his arms and hugged his girl tightly.

They embraced and kissed naturally, like an old married couple returning home from get off work. It wasn't overly sweet or passionate, but rather tacit and deep.

In the instant of their embrace, they both vaguely heard a playful "Eek...disgusting" sound, but pretended not to hear it.

After their lips parted, Fei Fei smiled and said, "Considering he might be useful later, I let him go. Commander, have I misunderstood?"

“Of course not. This guy is always slippery and cunning, perfectly fitting all my stereotypes.” Yu Lian looked at Fei Fei.

His girl still had a bright smile, but there was a hint of fatigue in her eyes, as if she had received too much information and her brain was about to crash.

Even the dignified Empress Fei experiences being overwhelmed by information? That's quite a novelty.

“He did confess a lot,” Fei Fei said.

"Hmm...that doesn't fit the stereotype. I thought you wanted to continue playing Riddler."

“He did do that, but I persuaded him gently and then he became much more open,” Fei Fei said with a smile. “Since we want to cooperate, of course we should be open with everything we know. People can sense that what he said is probably the truth, and even if he did hide something, it should be technical.”

"Oh?" Yu Lian was even more surprised.

“Yes, even for me, this is a bit too much information.” Fifi rubbed her temples. “She is actually the original genetic material of Empress Iwenya, the ‘slave liberator’ who was almost burned to death but jumped back. Not a clone, but the original. Do you know the difference, Fish?”

Yu Lian shook his head, but his expression was a bit strange.

(End of this chapter)