Him and their stars
Chapter 1763 The Tolerance of War
The young adjutant blinked his eyes 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 wild ratman passing by. The tragic feeling he had accumulated with great difficulty just now disappeared.
It took the admiral at least five seconds to calm down, and then he looked at the young man with a sizing vision. This young lieutenant is only 22 years old this year, a moon man, a tiger talisman group, a capable and diligent but also quite humble and polite young elite, I don’t remember having such a naughty side?
At this time, the adjutant had already opened the hatch behind the commander’s room and pushed the general’s special mecha over.
"Do I still need you to end it? I am also a professional soldier, and I have also got an A in shooting!" The admiral said loudly.
In fact, he hasn’t shot anyone in person for at least 20 years, but this is not the point. Shooting results and self-destruction are also irrelevant, but this is also not the point.
The important thing is that after the self-righteous tragic mood was swept away, the admiral suddenly found that courage returned to his body. Now he is full of energy and strength, as if he just came out of school.
He looked at the adjutant again with suspicion, and couldn't help saying: "Boy, this is your nature, right? It's finally exposed!"
The other party looked at his boss, the chief adjutant who was being pressed to the ground by a medical robot to bandage his wounds, 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 is almost impossible to get a general before retirement."
This sounds very ordinary, but for the Tiger Talisman Group, it may really be regarded as self-mockery.
"Oh, you don't act anymore?" The admiral sneered.
"No more acting." The young adjutant helped the general put on the mecha and reported: "Four main power reactors and three backup power lines, five sub-control rooms, air treatment core, water treatment core, and gravity simulation equipment, all have bombs buried."
The above are what Admiral Sylvester asked everyone to do. Of course, he didn't arrange it so carefully, nor did he think there would be so much.
"It's not your idea to add so much, is it?" The admiral had already put on arm armor and gloves, and shook his iron fist as big as a vinegar pot at the adjutant.
The adjutant began to put on the leg armor for the general, and replied: "The engineering department just executed your will to the point of no error."
"I always feel like I have broken my thoughts without any error." Admiral Sylvester muttered in a low voice, and then explained patiently: "I said that I hope to do business with the empire well, which is actually an idealized state. And it was also a thought before the war."
"I believe it." The adjutant smiled.
Admiral Sylvester felt the steel boots wrapped around his ankles, and the power device started to start. His whole body was also lifted up by the mechanical device, and his vision suddenly became clear.
The general's eyes slid across the railing of the highest platform where he was. There used to be a row of Clivia and lucky bamboo there, but now they are all gone.
These green plants were planted by himself, but the adjutants usually took care of them. Although it was a bit painful, it was not very touching.
What really made the admiral a little heartbroken was actually a 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 Barkwi merchant when he just became the admiral of the Far Shore Fleet and the commander of the military district five years ago.
Everyone knows what is behind the Barkwi merchants.
The proud Tirello masters certainly can't come out in person to give gifts, but they can always find helpers to do the dirty work.
This is also Admiral Sylvester's favorite "decoration". Not only is the style elegant and the shape majestic, but the material alone also reveals a sense of luxury.
Unfortunately, it was completely disintegrated in the "earthquake" just now, and various parts rolled everywhere. The luxurious silver surface and gold edges were covered with scratches and stains.
... Well, I should be very distressed, but it seems that I am not distressed enough now.
Admiral Sylvester extended his sight to a farther distance, swept across the terminal operation area on the lower floor, and saw that his subordinates had recovered from the chaos caused by the earthquake just now. The seriously injured had been taken away by robots and comrades. Those who were only slightly injured have now all returned to their posts.
He shrugged, and his sight finally stopped 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 far coast route and do some business with the empire.
Now, this ideal plan was finally 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 and obese, he was certainly not strong, and the arc of his beer belly was already very obvious.
However, when his bulging and corrupt belly was covered by the breastplate held by the adjutant, when the sense of power was transmitted from the fat to the muscles and bones that had not yet completely stiffened through the power device.
He suddenly felt that he was indeed an unquestionable 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 not too unethical in doing this?"
Facing the general's battle axe, the young adjutant blinked: "Sir, you are not a real noble lord of the empire, how can you still be virtuous?"
Admiral Sylvester was stunned for a moment, and then smiled self-deprecatingly: "Yes, you are damn right. I am not a noble lord. My grandfather's generation was just a dairy farmer in New Rome. Later, I followed Marshal Li to rebel against the masters of the empire. Hahaha! How could I forget such a simple thing?"
"...You didn't forget it, but you were really not sure whether you should remember it before. Now, you finally remember it." The adjutant explained so, and pulled out another mecha from the compartment.
"Why do you moon people always speak so harshly?"
"Sir, you are also a moon person."
"So the version has been updated. The moon people recently always have such a strong smell of the Lionheart Society, and each one is becoming less and less lovely! As your senior, I am really heartbroken for you!"
"This is probably because we are all smart people, sir. And it is not just the moon people 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 honest but kind, which finally matched his real age.
The general looked at the other party meaningfully and scolded with a smile: "You dangerous anti-establishment elements. From now on, I don't have to sleep with one eye open to worry about the secret police of the National and the Commission falling from the sky."
"If there really were secret police, we anti-establishment elements would have thrown them into the reactor in advance."
At this time, the alarm sounded violently in the command room.
"Commander, the enemy is breaking through! The enemy's assault landing craft is landing in the A12 and G7 areas of the fortress!"
Admiral Sylvester knocked the battle axe in his hand and pulled the Vulcan cannon behind him a little clumsily.
"Go! Guys, be alert! Don't lose face!"
His steps were a little staggering, and it was obvious that he was not very good at operating the mecha. However, although his figure was crooked, he was still moving forward firmly.
The adjutant and guard soldiers who were already in armor followed closely behind. Even the colonel adjutant who had just been hit on the head, I don't know when he got up with his head wrapped, silently put on the mecha, and silently joined the team.
On May 17, 834 of the Common Calendar, at 3:45 am, Galactic Standard Time, after a long confrontation and a tormenting tug-of-war that lasted for 7 months.
The army of the Galactic Empire finally boarded the fortress they had been thinking about 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 staged again in this fortress.
On the other side, when King Shazamen commanded the fleet to flatten those mortal fortresses and space stations and completely block 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 their long journey home in the direction of the Community Terra.
Of course, they had to pass through the Far Shore Star Region and through the Nantianmen where a fierce battle was taking place. But now, they have indeed slowly escaped from the enemy's siege that seemed like a net of heaven and earth.
Looking at this scene, King Shazamen sighed.
Of course, he just sighed.
"The absolute advantage of military strength can often be reflected in the tolerance of tactics. Of course, I can always convince myself that this is actually part of the plan." The elector said.
There was total silence all around. Whether His Royal Highness the Elector King was making fun of himself or fishing, 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 on his forehead, he suddenly opened his mouth and ordered: "Let the reserve fleet behind enter the departure phase. We need to prepare the next combat strategy."
The adjutant felt relieved and nodded to pass on the order.
King Shazamen opened the terminal and called up the list of generals serving as the reserve team in the rear. He quickly scanned the list and immediately stopped at the name of Major General Yeager Sobek.
After thinking for a moment, the Elector King nodded with satisfaction: "Very good, the talents and energy of outstanding young people should not be wasted on such a bad battle."
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