367: Company reinforcements

At the outermost edge of the Trisolaris System, a colossal ring-shaped Star Gate stood.

The Star Gate’s framework, with a diameter of ten kilometers, was made of dark alloy, unmoving under the illumination of the binary stars, as if locked in that space.

As the core energy was activated, the space at the center of the Star Gate began to twist and fold, forming a fantastical vortex. Pale blue energy ripples flowed within the vortex, seemingly leading to another dimension.

Space Anchor technology compresses the spatial distance between distant star systems, creating temporary shortcuts.

There was no gradual process, no slow movement; only after an extremely strong flash of light and a brief spatial distortion did a colossal vessel appear out of thin air, a hundred kilometers in front of the Star Gate.

This was one of the four titan-class warships, the “Azure Dragon” (referencing Leviathan, but I don’t know why I can’t upload a picture, and comments can’t be posted).

Its hull, twenty kilometers long, still appeared incredibly majestic against the backdrop of the Star Gate. The ship’s lines were rigid and sharp, like a primeval beast emerging from mythology.

The Star Gate flickered again, and two carrier-class warships, the “Orca” and the “Shark Whale,” appeared one after another.

Although named after fish, their appearance more closely resembled giant birds with outstretched wings. Their long axis was around eight kilometers, and while slightly smaller than the titan ships, as personnel transport vessels and small combat spacecraft platforms, they still possessed extremely powerful combat capabilities.

The only difference was probably their inability to carry doomsday weapons. For example, the “Sky Pillar,” which could easily carve a basin into a planet.

They floated silently in the void, their navigation lights twinkling like stars on their hulls, emanating a silent pressure.

Inside the bridge of the “Azure Dragon” titan ship, Yukun sat in the captain’s chair, her gaze fixed intently on the planet illuminated by the binary stars before her.

She wore the standard battle armor of the Luofu Fleet’s Cloud Knights, with intricate cloud patterns on her shoulder plates indicating her high military rank. Her entire being exuded a calm and dignified aura.

As the unfamiliar planet slowly rotated on the bridge’s panoramic projection, Yukun’s eyes flickered with a moment of distraction.

She recalled the meeting at the Divine Strategy Bureau not long ago... The Luofu Fleet, Supreme Command, Divine Strategy Bureau.

“Are you really not considering taking on this mission?” General Jing Yuan’s voice echoed in the Divine Strategy Bureau’s study, his tone devoid of any emotion beyond placidness.

He toyed with a jade tablet in his hand, displaying communication content from Jade.

Yukun stood by the window, her gaze passing through the carved wooden window to the distant Star Skiff Sea. Nearly a thousand warships were anchored there, including a miniature version of the Luofu Xianzhou.

That was a blueprint General Jing Yuan had acquired after “bribing” a Technology Research and Development Department designer with three boxes of immortal brew, and then commissioned the Construction Materials Logistics Department to produce.

Yukun’s fingers unconsciously caressed the Helmsman’s Seal at her waist, her voice carrying a clear hesitation: “General, you know… it’s been a long time since I personally piloted a Star Skiff… um, a spaceship.”

“I know.” General Jing Yuan gently put down the jade tablet in his hand and walked to her side: “But this mission is extraordinary; it requires a Commander who understands the stars and knows how to remain rational in the face of deities.”

Yukun’s gaze remained fixed on the shuttling ships outside the window, her eyes complex.

She remembered the last time she piloted a Star Skiff, which was on the third day after the Third Abundance War. She flew alone in a Star Skiff into the depths of the star sea, trying to find some answers in the vast cosmos.

“I have already touched the sky,” she whispered, her words sounding both like an answer to General Jing Yuan and an attempt to convince herself.

General Jing Yuan narrowed his eyes: “Yukun, I know what you want to say. In that war, we all lost too much…”

“But that won’t be a reason to hold you back, will it?”

Yukun’s pupils contracted slightly, and the faces of those who had passed away flashed in her mind.

Her close friends, the truly loving Caiyi and Guangyuan, and tens of thousands of Cloud Knights who sacrificed themselves before the Divine Bow General’s arrow.

That arrow indeed ended the war and purged all “abominations,” but it also made her deeply question the sacrifices of mortals.

“The fearless sacrifices of hundreds of thousands of soldiers were ultimately defeated by a single arrow,” Yukun’s voice carried a hint of bitterness, “Their faith and courage should have been immeasurable treasures.”

“But these things we consider priceless appear so insignificant under the might of the gods…”

General Jing Yuan was silent for a moment, then slowly said: “Yes, the efforts of mortals are, in the eyes of the Aeons, hardly worth mentioning.”

“Even an Emissary cannot claim to be much better.”

“However, on a case-by-case basis, these hardships, while trapping you, ultimately became your source of strength.”

“The current you is no longer just a pilot who only knew how to fly a Star Skiff, but a Helmsman who has experienced war and understands how to weigh pros and cons.”

He took out his jade tablet and projected a piece of intelligence: “News from Jade indicates that a new Aeon, Order, is being born on Three-Body Star.”

“The Company’s goal is also very clear: to sever Him before He ‘matures’.”

Yukun suddenly looked up, a hint of shock flashing in her eyes: “To interfere with the birth of a deity with a mortal body!? How is this possible!?”

“Yes, it sounds quite crazy at first,” General Jing Yuan’s lips involuntarily curved upwards, then immediately returned to normal.

“Unlike the indigenous people of this universe, we have personally witnessed the power of the gods and personally experienced the cruelty and ruthlessness of Aeon wars.”

“We know that in the face of absolute power, mortal efforts often seem futile.”

“But this time, a newly born Aeon…”

General Jing Yuan did not finish, and Yukun fell into deep thought.

Although after the mother-daughter reconciliation, Qing Ni had invited her to fly a spaceship together more than once, she always refused, citing that she had “already touched the sky.”

But each time she refused, she would unconsciously gaze up at the starry sky, a hint of undeniable longing in her eyes that even she herself hadn’t noticed.

Or rather, refused to admit.

“I… I’m not sure if I can still handle it,” Yukun’s voice held a rare hesitation, “These past few years, I’ve been dealing with paperwork; it’s been a long time since I commanded a real battle.”

“And I’m not that familiar with the Company’s ships either.”

General Jing Yuan gently shook his head: “Yukun, you refuse Qing Ni’s invitation not because you don’t want to return to the sky, but because you have something more important to do.”

“You believe you’ve found a more valuable goal.”

“As for not being familiar with the Company’s ships…”

He paused, then continued: “This mission doesn’t require you to pilot personally, but to command the entire fleet as the Helmsman of the Sky-Faring Commission.”

“What you need to do is not to rush to the front lines and confront a deity directly, but to make the right decisions at the right time, to become the sword-wielder.”

“To wield that divine weapon capable of slaying gods.”

Yukun’s gaze gradually firmed.

General Jing Yuan’s words touched the deepest knot in her heart, the question of mortal value versus divine power.

If it were possible for mortals to successfully interfere with the birth of an Aeon, or even end one, then perhaps it could prove that the sacrifices of Caiyi and the other soldiers were not meaningless.

This had become an obsession for her, and an obsession only needed a self-affirming explanation; that was enough.

“What is the Company’s plan?” she asked, her voice regaining the Helmsman’s composure.

General Jing Yuan unfolded the detailed intelligence on his jade tablet: “The Luofu Fleet will dispatch the ‘Azure Dragon’ titan ship, two carrier-class warships, and three thousand Cloud Knights. In addition, there will be twenty-seven thousand Company elites.”

“As a member of the Strategic Investment Department, for certain reasons, I cannot go personally, but I believe your abilities are sufficient to command this mission.”

Yukun carefully read the intelligence, and when she saw the words “Aeon of Order” and “sever the future,” her heart couldn’t help but race.

She didn’t know much about the ‘Azure Dragon,’ but she did know that it carried the Company’s latest planetary-level doomsday weapon.

This was undoubtedly a gamble, a gamble to challenge a deity with a mortal body. But it was precisely this seemingly impossible mission that ignited the long-dormant fighting spirit deep within her.

“I accept,” Yukun’s voice suddenly became extraordinarily firm.

General Jing Yuan showed a relieved smile.

Yukun took a deep breath, feeling a long-dormant part of her soul awakening.

The broken-winged pilot might never return to the blue sky, but as the Helmsman of the Sky-Faring Commission, she could fight for mortal dignity on a broader cosmic battlefield.

“I will prove that the will of mortals can also shake the stars,” the former sharpness reignited in Yukun’s eyes.

After Yukun withdrew, General Jing Yuan sat back at a tea table and poured two cups of tea.

He picked up one cup and took a small sip, then reached out and pushed the other cup towards the empty chair opposite.

The moment his finger left the teacup, another hand perfectly took the cup and brought it to its mouth, blowing on it.

A person sat in the empty chair, holding the teacup, giving General Jing Yuan a disdainful squint.

“I say, Old Jing, isn’t it bad to deceive people like that? I despise you.”

“Well, what can I do? Who let certain unscrupulous bosses assign targets and then not cooperate? So I can only find my own way, I guess ~” General Jing Yuan clearly didn’t mind Chen Hao’s squint.

Because he didn’t see it, with his eyes closed.

“What do you mean I don’t cooperate? Order is destined to be devoured by Harmony, the narrow path swallowed by the broad path; this is philosophically inevitable.” Chen Hao waved both hands, indicating that it wasn’t that he wasn’t cooperating, it was that he couldn’t.

“So, well, I can only put it differently then. Besides, didn’t you ask me to help resolve Yukun’s emotional knot?” General Jing Yuan continued to drink his tea, ah, yes.

“I sent the fleet as an extra layer of insurance; how dare you use my resources for your own gain? No, this deal is a loss for me; I’m not doing it.”

Seeing that the chairman was about to renege, General Jing Yuan could only play his trump card: “Yukun can be seconded, and I’ll be the bad guy, alright?”

“Alright. Tea, tea.”

...“Report, Helmsman, the fleet has passed through the Star Gate, and all systems are operating normally,” the adjutant’s voice came from the communicator. “We have arrived at the outer edge of the Trisolaris System, approximately 115 AU from the target planet.”

Yukun nodded slightly, her gaze sweeping over the Three-Body Star data displayed on the tactical screen. “Immediately initiate fleet warp, target Three-Body Star’s low-orbit.”

“Attention, maintain a safe distance from the space station in orbit.”

As the Helmsman of the Sky-Faring Commission, Yukun had experienced countless interstellar voyages and crisis management. Let alone the current situation being normal; even if everything were abnormal, she would remain calm and composed.

In space, the three colossal ships, like moving mountains of steel, reversed course, enveloping the surrounding spacecraft, steadily advancing towards the crisis-shrouded planet.

After one minute of warp acceleration, the fleet suddenly vanished from its original position.

After several seconds of travel, the fleet appeared in Three-Body Star’s low-orbit, docking at a temporary mooring point approximately three hundred kilometers from the space station.

“Establish a communication channel with the space station,” Yukun ordered.

One minute later, the communication link was established. Station Master Aine’s holographic image appeared in the center of the bridge, his face showing clear relief.

“Helmsman Yukun! I didn’t expect it to be you! Thank you, Luofu Fleet, for such a swift response!” Station Master Aine’s voice carried barely suppressed excitement.

Yukun’s expression remained her usual calm: “Station Master Aine, please provide a detailed report on the current situation.”

“Headquarters has forwarded your emergency report, but further confirmation is needed on certain details.”

Aine nodded frantically: “Alright.”