From cannon fodder to sweeping across thousands of stars.

Chapter 773 Federation Funeral

Amber was very interested in what Guterres said. After all, he had focused all his energy on the Star Dragon Empire during this period, and it was indeed impossible to fully understand the changes in the Renaissance Alliance by relying solely on regular briefings.

Moreover, Guterres, the former vice admiral of the federal navy, really surprised him. Not only did he have a solid foundation in fleet command, but he also managed the fleet's daily affairs and personnel promotions in an orderly manner. He even used his limited free time to conduct an in-depth analysis of the current situation of the Renaissance Alliance.
The view turns back to the tactical room of the Dawn, where Guterres continues to explain the situation.

"The factional struggle within the Renaissance Alliance has reached a fever pitch. Franklin and other high-ranking officials of the Renaissance Alliance are extremely wary of us. They have also realized that the large number of people we trained for them in the early stage will become time bombs in the future. So in order to prevent our influence from continuing to expand, they have transferred all the officers trained by Atlas from senior command positions and replaced them with their own 'direct subordinates'."

Amber was thoughtful after hearing this: "No wonder 'True Red Lightning' and 'Red Baron', aces with such outstanding military achievements, have not been promoted yet and are still struggling on the front lines. They are being suppressed artificially."

"That's true." Guterres nodded. "The current command of the Renaissance Alliance's fleet is in the hands of young officers like Kyle, who are trained by the Renaissance Alliance. They are motivated and have ideals, but lack practical experience, especially experience in fighting in adverse circumstances."

"They only know how to fight when the wind is in their favor." Amber concluded softly, "And the group of people we trained were trained during the most difficult period of the Renaissance Alliance. They are used to fighting with fewer people and more troops. As a result, these people are not reused, let alone promoted to the command level."

Randall, who had just walked in from outside the tactical room, interrupted after listening to the conversation between Amber and Guterres:

"What's worse is that when we contacted the Renaissance Alliance just now, they refused to postpone the time of the general attack, and insisted on the original plan to launch the general attack immediately after the sub-light speed ice crystals destroyed the orbital defense platform."

When people are speechless, they often can't help laughing. Amber is in this state at the moment.

"Are they that impatient?"

Guterres also sighed: "Franklin probably wants to win quickly and let all this settle. And now the remaining fleets of the Renaissance Alliance have been assembled. Judging from the current defense strength of the federal capital star, it is indeed unable to compete, not to mention our support."

The tactical room fell into a brief silence, and finally Amber spoke out the conclusion and the next response plan.

"Since the Renaissance Alliance has made up its mind to launch a general offensive, there is nothing we can do to persuade them. We are not the protagonists of this final scene, so let's just accompany them to the end of the show."
-
In the presidential office, President Brandon looked pale. He stared at the holographic projection in front of him with empty eyes, and no one knew what he was thinking.

"Mr. President, the ballistic calculations of the ice crystals have confirmed that they are targeting our orbital defense platform."

Defense Secretary Miller's voice, like most of the people present, became hoarse due to the intense pressure and anger:
"Judging from the trajectory, this was a targeted strike, not a random collision."

Brandon chuckled after hearing this conclusion. "This is rare good news. At least they don't plan to blow up the entire planet, right? The Renaissance Alliance needs a decent victory and a complete capital to declare their legitimacy."

The meeting room was silent, and no one knew how to respond to Brandon's words.

Finally, the Minister of the Interior broke the silence:

"Mr. President, the underground shelter system has been activated and the civil defense department is organizing the evacuation. But I must remind you that our shelters can only accommodate 70 percent of the capital's population at most."

"Then we'll prioritize resettling civilians," Brandon said without hesitation. "Government officials and military personnel will evacuate last."

He stood up and walked to the huge floor-to-ceiling window behind his seat. Outside the window, the capital's skyline was gleaming in the sun, and the towering buildings under the ecological dome were reflecting the golden light, looking so eternal.

But Brandon knew that after a while, all of this would be gone.
"Give me Lieutenant General Marcus's battle report."

The battle report was quickly delivered to him. As Brandon read the cold data, he had to admit that the garrison fleet's proactive attack did bring about a major victory at the tactical level.

The integrity and courage of the federal soldiers were indeed demonstrated at this last moment, but it seemed a little too late.
"But at least we got a piece of their flesh," Brandon whispered to himself.

"All citizens please go to the nearest underground shelter immediately. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill."

The mechanical female voice was played in a loop through the broadcasting system throughout the capital. For the residents of the capital planet, the moment the government alarm system suddenly sounded, their world changed completely.

On the public information screens across the federal capital, the countdown numbers were jumping mercilessly. This was the time when the twelve sub-light-speed ice crystals would arrive. And for those citizens who still remained in the federal capital, their lives seemed to have been compressed into an icy countdown.

These last ten hours or so were destined to be the longest and most desperate moments in their lives.

Escape from the capital?

This thought may have flashed through their minds during the initial panic, but it was quickly shattered by the cold reality.

Those who had the ability to leave had already fled far away when the Renaissance Alliance first showed its strength. They either went to the Star Dragon Empire like jumping from one fire pit to another, or went to the border of the Thousand Star Empire through their own channels.

But the number of these people is less than one thousandth.

Most of the people who stayed behind had a somewhat counterintuitive identity.
They are not ordinary people who are incapable of leaving the planet. Instead, they are high-ranking officials, military leaders, chaebols, and big capitalists. Their common characteristic is that they are too deeply tied to the old system of the Federation.

For these "remnants of the old times", the troops of the Renaissance Alliance have already conquered most of the Federation's territory, and the blue representing the Federation on the star map is being rapidly swallowed up by the red symbolizing "revolution".

In this situation, where can you escape to?
Those star regions that declared neutrality or independence were kept silent under the might of the Renaissance Alliance. There was no guarantee that they would be controlled by the Renaissance Alliance one day. Who would dare to take in the "remnants" from the capital star?
The fate of those who had managed to escape in the early stages had already been reported back through various secret channels. Their fate after being captured by the Alliance Audit Committee was even more miserable than staying here and waiting for destruction.

Escaping or not escaping seems to lead to the same end. In this case, most people naturally give up the idea of ​​escaping.

Transportation systems in various places were barely operating at an efficiency that was on the verge of collapse. Long queues of public transport vehicles, filled with expressionless people, slowly drove towards the entrances of the giant shelters scattered underground throughout the city.

As the heart of the federation, the capital took the worst-case scenario into consideration at the outset of its planning.

These fortifications and shelters, located deep underground in various places, have solid structures and sufficient supplies - we have to "praise" the commissioners who were responsible for their construction for not taking too many kickbacks in this regard.

The design of the planet's underground shelter even allows for the possibility for the remaining garrison forces to launch a counterattack from underground after the ground has completely fallen.

As for the majority of the troops on the planet's surface, except for reserved observation posts and air defense forces, all other troops were indeed hiding in underground bunkers, preparing to give the Renaissance Alliance's landing force a 'surprise'.

At the entrance to the Placid Square underground shelter in the U.S. District of Columbia, a team of soldiers is assisting people in entering a huge underground shelter.

Sergeant Jackson lifted up his tactical visor and wiped the sweat from his forehead, then continued to direct the flow of people numbly. He had been working for ten hours straight, but the evacuation work was still only 10% away from completion.

"Hurry up, ladies, go first! Watch out for the steps!"

He repeated these words mechanically while observing the situation around him.

Most people in the crowd remained silent, as if panic had turned into numbness in this life-threatening countdown.

"Sir, the last batch of civil defense volunteers has arrived." A young soldier reported to Jackson.

Jackson nodded. "Tell them to be responsible for maintaining order, especially the water and food distribution points."

"Yes, sir!" The young soldier saluted and hurried away.

Looking at the other's back, Sergeant Jackson couldn't help but sigh. The young soldier's parents were both naval officers, and they had also died with Marshal Trafalgar.

Now, it seems he will follow in his parents' footsteps.
Did this young soldier do something wrong?

Sergeant Jackson didn't know, just as he didn't know if he had done anything wrong.

He withdrew his thoughts and saw a little girl standing at the side of the passage, hugging a stuffed toy that looked valuable and refusing to move forward.

Jackson squatted down and looked her in the eye: "Hey, little guy, what's your name?"

"Erin," the girl replied quietly.

"So Irene, why don't you go in?"

"I'm separated from my mother and I don't want to go in here. I want to go home." The little girl said with a tearful voice.

Upon seeing this, Sergeant Jackson immediately took off the protective gloves of his combat exoskeleton, then touched Irene's face with his rough hands, and tried to make his voice sound relaxed.

"Erin, I'll have someone take you to your mother, okay? But I hope you can be brave. You know, this place is a bit like a big ship. We have to hide in it for a while, just like playing hide-and-seek. Well, you and your little bear, okay?"

The little girl hesitated, then nodded.

Jackson immediately called a soldier, and after verifying the identity of the little girl and confirming the location of her mother, he asked the soldier to take the little girl into the shelter to find her mother.

After doing all this, Sergeant Jackson turned around and looked at the endless stream of people at the entrance of the shelter and the large number of children in the crowd, and felt a sense of powerlessness.

These children, what have they done wrong? What will their future be like?

Inside the Placid Square underground shelter, in this confined space designed to hold two thousand people but now crammed with more than three thousand people, although the air purification device is already running at full power, the air still seems turbid and depressing.

People who came for refuge were crowded together. The only thing these well-dressed strangers had in common was the numbness and fear on their faces.

The cries of children were drowned out by the low hum of the air purifiers and the occasional arguments among the adults around them.

In the corners, families of citizens of the capital hugged each other tightly and prayed, but more people just sat in silence, staring at the cold metal ceiling with empty eyes, like prisoners awaiting trial.

Twelve-year-old Irene has now reunited with her mother. She is now leaning in her mother's arms. Facing this unfamiliar and complicated environment, she does not cry or make a fuss, but just asks her mother questions in a low voice.

"Mom, why do we have to leave home and hide underground?" "Because there is an organization called the 'Renaissance Alliance' that is preparing to hit us with a huge block of ice from space."

Irene's mother, Theresa Howard, a woman who once worked in the Department of Defense, did not show any panic on her face at this moment, but patiently answered her daughter's questions.

"Why did the Renaissance Alliance throw ice at us?" Irene asked.

Theresa smiled. "Because some big guys did something wrong, the uncles and aunts from other planets were angry, so they used big ice blocks to hit us. Sometimes, a piece of ice is more useful than a bomb."

She did not tell her daughter that the energy released when those sub-light-speed ice crystals hit the orbital defense platform was enough to completely wipe out the "necklace" surrounding the planet. She also did not tell her that if an ice crystal escaped from orbit and hit the planet, all life on the planet would be destroyed.

Theresa looked up and around. There were many familiar faces among the people taking refuge in this area.

After confirming that the twelve sub-light-speed ice crystals could not be intercepted, the civilian staff of the Presidential Palace, the Ministry of National Defense, the Army Headquarters, the Navy Headquarters and other institutions were all dismissed, so Theresa and her colleagues were all identified as "civilians" at this time.

Obviously, compared to those who are unwilling to leave and choose to hold on to their weapons until the last moment, these "civilians" have a slightly greater chance of surviving.

Of course, only a little.

At least Theresa herself did not think that the Renaissance Alliance would treat them, the employees of the former government, very well. She stroked her daughter's hair, thinking about her future under the new order.

As the daughter of a former senior Department of Defense civilian employee, Irene could face discrimination or even persecution.

If the mother and daughter can survive this turmoil, Theresa will find a way to take Irene away from the capital and go to the area controlled by the Atlas Group.

President Brandon's voice came intermittently from the shelter's radio. His voice was tired but firm, and he was delivering his last speech as the President of the Federation to the entire planet.

"We are not hiding underground because we are afraid of death. We are just waiting for the dawn and the clarion call of counterattack."

Theresa listened to these words with a complicated look in her eyes.

As a former Ministry of Defense official, she knew the truth about the collapse of the Federation better than most people. It was not just the rise of the Renaissance Alliance or the Atlas Group, but the entire system of the Federation was rotten from within.

Perhaps most of the capital's citizens, like her, are just working and living normally in the capital, and are not involved in those dirty activities.

But living on the capital planet is their 'original sin'.

In the eyes of Federation citizens in other regions, ordinary citizens of the capital system are also "exploiters" or "vested interests".

It can be said that they enjoy the highest quality of life and the best educational resources in the entire federation. Their children can directly enter the core circles of the federal government and giant companies. They are "parasites" that suck the blood of others.

Theresa found that she couldn't deny this.
"Mom, are we going to die?" Irene asked suddenly.

Theresa was stunned for a moment. She didn't understand why her daughter suddenly asked this question, but she quickly reacted and shook her head:
"No, Irene. They need this planet, this city, and even us. They are under the banner of 'rejuvenation', so they have to leave something behind. Otherwise, who will help them 'rejuvenate'?"

Of course, these words are still a bit beyond the scope for a 12-year-old girl.

Vice Admiral Marcus, commander of the orbital defense platform and commander of the garrison fleet, stood on the bridge of the flagship "Loyalist" and observed the orbit of the capital planet through the main screen.

The two garrison fleets and all the patrol fleets assembled in the galaxy were now lurking in the nearby deep space. The main propulsion arrays were shut down and the fusion reactors were only operating at the lowest power.

"Sir, there are still two hours left in the countdown." The adjutant reported softly.

Marcus nodded without saying anything. He knew that this battle was already decided, but he still hoped to deal a final blow to the enemy before the Renaissance Alliance landed.

Although the previous ambush completely annihilated the enemy's two fleets, it could not change the course of the battle.

Marcus walked to the porthole of the bridge and looked at the blue and white planet in the distance. He had served in the Federation Navy for thirty years and never thought he would experience the demise of the Federation.

"Are you ready?" he asked the adjutant beside him.

The adjutant nodded. "All ships are ready. The stealth action equipment is functioning well. According to the final calculation of the Navy Intelligence Department, the main force of the Renaissance Alliance should arrive within an hour after the ice crystal impact."

Marcus took a deep breath, then turned to look at the others on the bridge: "Everyone, I am honored to fight alongside you until the last moment."

On the planetary orbital defense platform, the last batch of technicians are rushing to evacuate.

The platform command center was empty, with only the hum of the automatic systems running. Technical Director Lynn Colton checked the system status for the last time, ensuring that all automated defense units were in optimal working condition.

Although everyone knows that this is futile, because the Federation currently has no defense system that can intercept sub-light speed ice crystals.
"Director Lin, we should leave now." His deputy stood at the hatch and urged, "The last shuttle is waiting for us."

Lynn's finger paused on the control panel: "Give me another minute."

He called up the automatic response program of the main defense system and made final fine-tuning. These programs would most likely not have any effect, but he could not give up any possibility.

"What if a miracle happens?" he said to himself.

Outside the porthole of his cabin, the blue-white light of the capital star was so bright and beautiful. Lynn had been working on this orbital station for twelve years and had seen countless sunrises and sunsets. He had never thought that one day he would leave forever.

"Okay, let's go."

He finally turned around and followed his colleagues towards the shuttle door. At the last moment when the door closed, he looked back for the last time. The indicator light on the defense platform was still flashing, like a lonely star in the night sky.

In the underground command center of the presidential palace, Brandon stared at the countdown on the main screen: 00:15:42.

Twelve sub-light-speed ice crystals have passed the last planet outside the capital star. At this speed, they cannot even be captured by ordinary optical systems.

"Mr. President, the last shelter has been closed, and civilians and ground troops who can be evacuated have evacuated underground," the Minister of the Interior reported.

Brandon nodded, not looking away from the screen. "Very good."

He stood up, walked to the center of the room and looked at everyone, then spoke slowly in a surprisingly calm voice:
"Ladies and gentlemen, no matter what happens today, we will face it. Maybe it is right to revive the alliance, maybe the federation is rotten and needs new blood. But I believe that history will remember how we faced this end - not running away, not surrendering, but holding on to the last moment."

Countdown displays: 00:05:00.

After saying that, Brandon returned to his seat and folded his hands on the table, waiting for the final moment to arrive.

Others also sat down around, calmly waiting for the last moment to come.

On the orbital defense platform above the planet, a large number of sensors have captured abnormal energy readings, and the defense units in fully automatic hosting state immediately activated the defense weapon systems in various locations.

It is like a microcosm of the Federation, making its final and futile struggle.

00:01:00.

Inside the shelter, Sergeant Jackson turned off the external sensor display, not wanting the public to see what was about to happen, and walked over to Irene and her mother and crouched down.

"Hey, little guy, you wanna hear a story?"

Irene looked up and nodded.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful city..."

00:00:30.

Vice Admiral Marcus ordered the fleet to be prepared to resist the impact and to attack the enemy at any time after the attack was over. Then he waited for the impact in absolute silence.

00:00:10.

Brandon closed his eyes and counted the last few seconds in his mind.

00:00:05.

00:00:04.

00:00:03.

00:00:02.

00:00:01.

00:00:00.

A blinding white light suddenly streaked across the track, followed by the second, third, and twelve rays of light appearing almost simultaneously, like fireworks blooming in the pitch-black space.

(End of this chapter)