162: Chapter 162 Captain Selection: Long Zhantian's New Journey
The vibration of the "soaring heavens" leaving the dock was transmitted through the hull structure in an extremely faint yet clearly discernible way to the deck of the bridge, and then to the soles of Long Zhantian's feet. He stood before the captain's seat, his posture as straight as an unsheathed saber, his gaze like a hawk's sweeping across the starry background rapidly flashing on the main screen and the deep flight path gradually unfolding ahead. Behind him, the low, clear reports from the station officers rose and fell, interweaving with the data stream synchronized via the quantum network by the Nuwa AI into a cold pre-war symphony.
"Course confirmed, target interception area Alpha."
"zhurong engine status: All green, thrust output stable."
"Joint Force Field Shield System: Adaptation complete, standby mode, energy path self-check passed."
"Thunder Department main gun array pre-charging ready."
"Nuwa's core computing power allocation optimization complete, tactical sandbox synchronized and generating."
Everything was in perfect order, like a precision clock. But Long Zhantian knew that the smoothness of this massive war machine at this moment was built on the foundation of countless hours of near-collapse integration in the past and the countless internal struggles within his own heart.
Becoming the captain of the "soaring heavens" was far from as simple as a single transfer order.
Over a month ago, when Elder Chen and Lin Mo informed him of this decision in that quiet meeting room at the Bright Dawn base, even with Long Zhantian's character of remaining unshakable even if Mount Tai collapsed before him, he felt a momentary trance and immense pressure.
"Comrade Long Zhantian," Elder Chen's expression was incredibly solemn at the time, "the 'soaring heavens' needs a captain. This captain must have the clearest understanding of the enemies we are about to face, the most intuitive understanding of our technical advantages and disadvantages, and more importantly, must have the iron will to protect the target and make decisions under extreme pressure and... the resolve to sacrifice if necessary. You proved you possess these qualities in the operations to protect Comrade Lin Mo and eliminate hostile forces. Now, we need you to transform from the ground's 'shield' into the sky's 'sword'."
From being the guardian of the S.H.I.E.L.D. to becoming the sword-bearer of humanity's first aerospace carrier. From familiar urban street fighting, intelligence games, and close protection, to jumping into a vast battlefield measured in astronomical units and light-seconds. This leap was comparable to letting a top cavalry commander command a newly formed aircraft carrier strike group.
Lin Mo didn't say much then, only pushing a thick summary data package regarding all systems of the "soaring heavens," tactical simulations, and the Nuwa AI's logical architecture in front of him. "Director Long, no, perhaps I should call you Captain Long in advance." Lin Mo's gaze was clear and frank. "I know this is difficult. Ground combat intuition and experience may need to be completely reconstructed in space warfare. But we don't have time to slowly train a pure 'space captain.' What we need is a commander who can hold his ground in a desperate situation, dares to make decisions, and is absolutely trustworthy. You are the most suitable candidate. For technical issues, Nuwa and the entire research team are your backing; for tactics and command, I believe in your learning and adaptation abilities."
Trust. Heavy trust.
He did not shrink back. Nor could he afford to. Accepting the appointment meant leaving the S.H.I.E.L.D. he had managed for years like an extension of his own arm, leaving the familiar Earth environment, and binding his fate and the fates of hundreds of carefully selected crew members to this giant ship that condensed the highest technology of mankind yet was full of unknowns, casting themselves into that cold and dangerous deep space.
The initial adaptation period was painful. He needed to learn from scratch like a recruit: interstellar navigation, energy weapon fire control, force field shield principles, damage control in microgravity environments... and more importantly, learn how to share command with a powerful artificial intelligence like Nuwa and define the human-machine decision boundaries. Those obscure parameters, complex system interaction interfaces, and physical laws completely different from those within the atmosphere had once kept him awake all night.
But he pulled through. He relied on the powerful learning ability and even more powerful will tempered by years of military career. He immersed himself in data and simulators, forcing his brain to reconstruct his perception of war at the fastest speed. He tried to combine his experience from ground special operations regarding reconnaissance, ambushes, psychological games, and survival in extreme environments with the characteristics of space warfare, proposing many "non-standard" tactical concepts that made both Nuwa and the tactical staff group's eyes light up, some of which had already been incorporated into the "plan" plan.
He gradually understood the "reconstruction" Lin Mo spoke of. Ground combat intuition, such as the instantaneous spatial perception of terrain, cover, and the situation between friend and foe, needed to ascend in dimension in space—expanding two-dimensional or three-dimensional ground maps into complex four-dimensional spacetime models containing gravity wells, radiation belts, orbital mechanics, and energy weapon range and attenuation. The enemy was no longer flesh and blood hiding behind buildings, but cold creations that could strike from any angle and in unimaginable speeds and ways.
He also learned to coexist with Nuwa. He respected Nuwa's absolute advantage in data calculation, instantaneous reaction, and multi-threaded control, handing over most of the ship's system monitoring, firepower allocation, and electronic countermeasure details to it. But he firmly held the final tactical decision-making power, the right to review Nuwa's action plans, and the responsibility to handle emergencies outside of Nuwa's logic. He knew he was not just the captain, but also the backbone of all human members on this ship, the final safety valve and moral compass for this sharp AI weapon called Nuwa.
"Captain, Nuwa reports that it has successfully completed the final data synchronization with the Guanghan Palace Deep Space Monitoring Network and the system matrix. the piercer's latest trajectory prediction has been updated, and our preset interception point time error has narrowed to plus or minus fifteen minutes." The Vice Captain's report pulled Long Zhantian back from his brief thoughts.
"Understood," Long Zhantian said in a deep voice, his gaze shifting to the constantly ticking countdown on one side of the main screen. The numbers decreased ruthlessly, like the footsteps of the Grim Reaper.
He took a deep breath, feeling the condensed air within the bridge and the weight of hundreds of pairs of eyes (including Nuwa's omnipresent perception) focused on him. This weight was heavier than any mountain on Earth.
This was not his familiar battlefield; there was no smell of earth, no scent of gunpowder, only the silence of the vacuum and the faint humming of instruments in operation. The enemy was unknown, the weapons were unknown, and even the warship beneath his feet was still in the process of integration and verification.
But some things never changed.
A soldier's duty.
The oath of protection.
The courage to find life in death.
He moved his fingers, his joints making a slight cracking sound. At North Heaven Gate, he opened the ship-wide broadcast channel.
"Attention all crew, this is Captain Long Zhantian."
His voice was steady, not loud, yet it possessed a strange penetrating power, clearly reaching every cabin and every station through the quantum network.
"We are about to enter the designated interception position. You already know what the enemy is. You also know what we have."
"This is my first time commanding a starship in battle, and it is the first time for most of you here. We have no experience, and no battle examples from predecessors to refer to. What we have is this ship beneath our feet, the crystallization of human wisdom and industry, the expectations of billions of compatriots behind us, and our own determination to choose to stand here."
He paused, his tone suddenly becoming as sharp as a blade:
"Forget all the tactical regulations you learned on the ground, except for the most fundamental one—eliminate the enemy and preserve yourselves. Here, the rules are written by us and the enemy together. Believe in your training, believe in your comrades beside you, believe in Nuwa's assistance, and even more, believe in your own judgment."
"I cannot promise that everyone will return safely. This is war, an interstellar war, a war whose cruelty is unknown to anyone. But I can promise—the captain of the 'soaring heavens' will always stand at the very front and be the last to leave. My orders will serve only one goal: to turn that hunk of iron flying in from the Kuiper Belt into space debris forever, so it can never send any more 'greetings'!"
"Remember our name—'soaring heavens'! Our journey begins by shattering this first wave of malice from deep space!"
"Man your stations. Prepare for contact."
The broadcast ended. There was silence on the bridge, but that heavy atmosphere seemed to have been injected with some kind of molten iron stream, becoming tougher and more impassioned. Every officer's back straightened a bit more, and their eyes became more focused.
Long Zhantian sat in the captain's seat, and the safety belt buckled automatically. He took one last look at the short message sent by Lin Mo on his personal terminal; there were only four words: "Give it your all."
He closed the screen, his eyes like iron, locking onto the endless darkness ahead.