Chapter 1763 The fault tolerance rate of war
The young adjutant blinked and said seriously: "...Well, at the critical moment, can I help you end it?"
Admiral Sylvester seemed to have been knocked into a ditch by a passing wild ratman after being dented for a long time, and he couldn't help coughing loudly. The tragic feeling he had finally accumulated just now was gone.
The admiral took at least five seconds to regain his composure, and then looked at the young man with a visual wonder. This young lieutenant is only 22 years old this year. He is a moon man and a member of the Tiger Talisman Group. He is a capable and diligent but very humble and polite young elite. Don't you remember that he has such a naughty side?
At this time, the adjutant had already quickly opened the hatch behind the commander's room and pushed the general's special mecha over.
"Do I still need you to stop me? I am also a professional soldier, and I also got an A in shooting!" the general said loudly.
In fact, he hadn't shot anyone with a gun himself in at least twenty years, but that wasn't the point. Shooting performance also has little to do with self-destruction, but that's also not the point.
What's important is that after the tragic self-righteousness was swept away, the admiral suddenly discovered that courage had returned to his body. Now, he was in high spirits and full of strength, as if he had just come out of school.
He looked at the adjutant suspiciously again and couldn't help but said: "Boy, is this your true nature? It's finally exposed!"
The other party looked at his boss, the chief adjutant who was being pinned to the ground by a medical robot to bandage his wounds, and grinned: "Actually, when I was at the Lunar Military Academy, more than one instructor said that the subordinates were frivolous by nature. If Without acting, it is almost impossible to become a general before retiring.”
This sounds very ordinary, but to the Tiger Talisman Group, it may really be considered self-deprecating.
"Oh, no more acting now?" the admiral sneered.
"No more acting." The young adjutant reported while helping the general put on the mecha: "Four main power furnaces and three backup power circuits, five sub-control rooms, air processing core, water processing core, and gravity Bombs have been buried at the simulation equipment.”
The above are what Admiral Sylvester asked everyone to do. Of course, he didn't arrange it in such detail, nor did he expect it to be so large.
"Isn't it your kid's idea to add more ingredients like this?" The general had already put on his arm armor and gloves, and swung his iron fist, which was literally as big as a vinegar bowl, towards the adjutant.
The adjutant began to put the leg armor on the general and replied: "The engineering department is just executing your will to ensure that it is foolproof."
"It always feels like I have been completely cut off from my thoughts." Admiral Sylvester muttered in a low voice, and then explained patiently: "I said I wanted to do good business with the empire, but actually It’s an idealized state, and it was something I thought about before the war.”
"I believe it," the adjutant said with a smile.
Admiral Sylvester felt the steel boots covering his ankles, and the power device started to activate. His entire body was also lifted a little higher by the mechanical device, and his vision suddenly became clearer.
The general's eyes slid over the railing of the highest platform where he was. There used to be a row of clivias and lucky bamboos there, but now they have been completely wiped out.
These green plants are grown by oneself, but the adjutants usually do the work of taking care of them. Although it hurts a little, it doesn't affect them too much.
What really makes the admiral a little heartbroken is actually a set of silver armor with gold rims placed at the entrance of the stairs. The style is very typical of the classical era of the empire. This was given to me by a Bakvi businessman five years ago when I first became the admiral of the Far Coast Fleet and the commander of the military region.
In fact, everyone knows what is behind the Bakvi merchants.
The proud Tirello gentlemen would certainly not be able to deliver gifts themselves, but they could always find helpers to do the dirty work.
This is also Admiral Sylvester's favorite "decoration". It is not only elegant in style and majestic in shape, but also exudes luxury based on the material alone.
Unfortunately, it completely fell apart in the "earthquake" just now. Various parts rolled everywhere, and the luxurious silver and gold edges were covered with scratches and stains.
...Well, I should be very distressed, but it seems that my distress is limited now.
Admiral Sylvester looked further away, scanning the terminal operation area on the lower floor. He saw that his subordinates had recovered from the chaos caused by the earthquake just now. The seriously injured ones had been killed by robots and comrades. Transport away. Those who only suffered minor injuries have now returned to their posts.
He shrugged, his eyes finally stopping on himself.
In fact, before the war started, he always lacked the real sense of being a professional soldier. He always felt that he was actually more like this fortress. No, the mayor of this space city really wanted to guard the shipping routes and routes on the far shore. The empire does some business.
Now, this ideal plan has finally been shattered.
He suddenly realized that he, who was about to turn sixty, had actually gained a lot of weight. Although the figure is not bloated and obese, it is certainly not muscular, and the curve of the beer belly is already obvious.
However, when his bulging, rotten belly was trapped by the breastplate held by the adjutant, when the feeling of power was transmitted through the fat in the power device to the muscles and bones that were not completely rigid.
He suddenly felt that he was indeed a professional soldier without a doubt. He did not take out the debugging rifle, but lifted the high-carbon crystal battle ax weighing 20 kilograms from the weapon rack next to him - without the mecha, he would have been exhausted to lift this thing with both hands. .
Admiral Sylvester swung his heavy and sharp battle ax twice, and suddenly said: "By the way, am I being too ungrateful in doing this?"
Facing the general's battle ax, the young adjutant blinked: "Your Excellency, you are not really an imperial nobleman, what kind of martial ethics can you have?"
Admiral Sylvester was stunned for a brief moment, and then showed a self-deprecating smile: "Yes, you are absolutely right. I am not a noble man. When I was in my grandfather's generation, I He was just a dairy farmer in New Rome. Later, he rebelled against the imperial lords. Hahahaha! Why did I forget about such a simple thing?"
"...You haven't forgotten, it's just that you were really not sure whether you should remember it before. Now, you finally remembered it." The adjutant explained, and pulled out another mecha from the compartment.
"Why do you moon people always speak so harshly?"
"Your Excellency, you are also a Moon Man."
"So the version has been updated. Recently, Moonmen, the smell of the Lion Heart Club has always been so strong, and each of them is becoming less and less cute! As your old senior, I really feel sad for you!"
"This is probably because we are all smart people, Your Excellency. Moreover, it is not just the moon people who are like this, Your Excellency, far from it." The young adjutant grinned, revealing two rows of bright front teeth. His smile at this time was honest but kind, finally in line with his true age.
The admiral looked at the other party meaningfully and cursed with a smile: "You dangerous anti-system elements. From now on, I don't have to sleep and worry about the secret police of the Nationalist and Communist Party descending from the sky."
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"If there really was a secret police, we anti-system elements would have thrown them into the reactor in advance."
At this time, the alarm sounded fiercely in the command room.
"Your Excellency, Commander, the enemy is breaking through! The enemy attacked the landing craft and landed in the A12 and G7 areas of the fortress!"
Admiral Sylvester knocked the battle ax into his hand, and awkwardly pulled the Vulcan cannon behind his back.
"Come on! Kids, be more energetic! Don't let me down!"
His steps were a little staggered, and it was obvious that he was not very good at operating mechas. However, although the body shape is crooked, it is still moving forward firmly.
The adjutants and guardsmen, already wearing armor, followed closely behind. Even the colonel's adjutant, who had his head smashed just now, didn't know when he got up with his head wrapped, put on the mecha silently, and joined the team silently
On May 17, 834 in the common calendar, at 3:45 a.m. Galactic Standard Time, after a long confrontation and torturous tug-of-war that lasted for seven months.
The army of the Galactic Empire finally boarded the Seide Fortress that they had been dreaming about day and night.
However, inside the fortress, the street fighting in the space city, which is like a millstone of flesh and blood, has just begun.
All the harassment and guerrilla attacks that the Imperial Army's landing troops endured in the maze-like Fortress No. 3 will be staged again in this fortress.
On the other side, King Shazamen, when the fleet he commanded wiped out the mortal fortresses and space stations and completely blocked the two gravity wells, more than 70% of the Earth's fleet had already submerged into the starry sky of the Far Shore Nebula. , and began his long journey home toward the homeland of Terra, the community.
Of course they had to pass through the Far Coast Star Area and pass through the Nantianmen where a fierce battle was taking place. But now, they have indeed slowly escaped from the enemy's siege like a dragnet.
Looking at this scene, King Shazamen sighed.
Of course, he just sighed.
"The absolute advantage of military strength can often be reflected in the tactical error tolerance. Of course, I can always convince myself that this is actually part of the plan." Emperor Xuan said.
There was silence. Regardless of whether His Highness the Emperor is mocking himself or fishing, this is not something ordinary officers can talk to.
After another few seconds of silence, when the adjutant closest to the feudal lord was already sweating on his forehead, he suddenly spoke again and ordered: "Let the reserve fleet at the back enter the departure stage. We need to prepare the next battle strategy."
The adjutant was relieved, nodded and went to deliver the order.
King Shazamen opened the terminal and called up the list of generals serving as reserves in the rear. His eyes quickly scanned and immediately stopped on the name of Major General Yeager Soback.
After thinking for a moment, the emperor-elect nodded happily: "Very good, the talents and energy of outstanding young people cannot be wasted on such a bad battle."