Sijiaer Hive City the temporary command fortress.
On the heavy alloy desks, the "fine tradition" of parchment was preserved within the empire.
The biggest advantage of doing this is that you know how much work you have piled up and haven't finished.
The downside is—since there's always work to be done, I might as well just lie down.
Earl Octavius chose the latter; even if the sky falls, someone will clean up the mess, so why rush?
Earl Octavius held an expensive, slender cigarette between his fingers and leisurely took a puff.
"In a few days, the Marauder that Reck has will be able to be sold. Although it's a bit dilapidated, it's still a Lunar-class Cruiser. If it weren't for Reck's incredible luck, how could an ordinary Rogue Trader him have ever owned one?"
"Once we get our hands on it, we can repair it and sell it for a good price."
Octavius has already contacted a buyer, and the price has been negotiated to the second round.
The thought that the fortune that old dog Reck had painstakingly accumulated over a hundred years was about to change hands made Earl Octavius so happy that he even wanted to have another drink.
Suddenly, a communication request light appeared.
Earl Octavius answered the call casually, and the image of Old Jack, the black market moneylender, appeared on the screen.
However, a single sentence from the other party shattered his good mood.
"Lady Su, Lei Jing has just settled the debt and redeemed the Marauder."
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Octavius's fingers, which were holding a cigarette, suddenly stopped.
He slowly raised his head, his dark green pupils filled with utter astonishment.
He remained silent for a full five seconds. He wasn't surprised that Reck was rich; he was annoyed. Purely annoyed.
Others thought he had just casually helped old Jack make a connection, but only he knew that this was a trap he had set for Reck from the very beginning.
He knew all too well what kind of person that old dog Reck, was.
Greedy, prone to lying, and fond of playing petty tricks.
So when Reck volunteered to advance the money to acquire the Wetware, the Earl approved it without hesitation.
They won; the war was won, and the Allied forces paid the bill.
If we lose, the ship will be in our hands.
Regardless of winning or losing, he always makes a profit.
A perfect situation.
So now, Reck actually has the money to redeem the ship?
Where did he get the money?
It's not clear yet.
The Earl stubbed out his cigarette in the metal ashtray and chuckled.
"It doesn't matter. As long as he's still operating ships in the Little Manting Star System, he has to cooperate with the Alliance."
"In less than half a month, he'll come back on his knees begging me."
In the Earl's eyes, Rogue Trader were never equal traders, but rather dogs.
A disobedient dog will learn to behave after a few days of starvation.
Earl Octavius quickly put the matter out of his mind, as the Alpha Hive City was more important at the moment.
Since Fu Haoran forced that Cobra-class Destroyer into the atmosphere and sealed off the surrounding airspace, things have been unusually quiet.
There was no shelling, no harassment, and no surprise attack.
The quiet was so unusual that he felt a little uneasy.
"It seems those scumbags under his Lower Hive have finally learned what fear is." The Earl picked up his wine glass, just about to take a small sip.
Boom!
A dull thud suddenly erupted from the outside of the fortress, causing the entire alloy building to tremble violently and dust to fall from the ceiling.
Red wine splashed Earl's trousers.
"What's going on?!" The Earl's face instantly darkened.
The adjutant rushed in, looking disheveled. "Sir! There's been an unidentified flying object attack!"
Boom!
The second explosion was closer, and the shockwave made the glass windows shake violently.
Earl Octavius gritted his teeth and strode onto the open-air balcony.
The next second, he was completely stunned.
In the sky, dozens of small, crudely designed aircraft, all matte black in color and with rough exteriors that looked like they had been hand-assembled, were slowly gliding across the horizon.
Their speed was ridiculously slow, so slow that the naked eye could easily track their trajectory, like a flock of clumsy ducks swimming at low altitude.
But these clumsy ducks brazenly swept across the anti-aircraft fire line.
Suddenly, a drone began to swoop down without warning, and the next second, there was another loud bang.
"That's my parking lot! Damn it, my limited edition hovercar!"
Earl Octavius's teeth were clenched in fury!
"Where's the Void Shield?! Why isn't it activated?!"
The Tech-Priest behind him, his prosthetic eye flashing red, humbly replied, "Sir, have you forgotten?"
" The Void Shield trigger threshold is set to high Hiss; this low-speed, inferior device cannot trigger the Void Shield."
Earl Octavius's pupils contracted sharply as he realized he had forgotten about this.
"What about our anti-aircraft guns? And our missiles? Are they just for show?"
The Tech-Priest sighed silently, knowing that the Earl was forgetful, and could only patiently explain, "Sir, these drones use Plastisteel shells that absorb scanning waves. Large Auspex can't see them, and small detectors will detect them too late."
"Our Wolf Spider Sentry Gun are insufficient to block out the sky."
"And the price of a single Anti-Aircraft Missile is too high; the price of one missile is equivalent to that of a dozen of these dilapidated drones."
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"What's even more critical is that their engines have extremely low infrared signatures, making them very difficult for heat-seeking missiles to lock onto."
Earl Octavius thought such asymmetrical tactics were disgusting enough, but little did he know that something even more disgusting was yet to come!
Only ten minutes had passed since the previous attack when the air raid siren sounded again.
More than a dozen drones attacked.
Although the attack ended quickly and most of the drones were shot down, before Earl Octavius could even breathe a sigh of relief and return inside, the air raid siren sounded again!
After that, the air raid siren sounded every ten minutes, plunging the entire fortress into extreme mental torment.
A soldier, who had just crouched down in the air-raid shelter and hadn't even settled in when the alarm went off, squatted in the corner cursing, "This is the thirteenth time! I haven't done anything all day but crouch in the air-raid shelter."
A logistics quartermaster looked at the destroyed transport convoy and was on the verge of tears. The convoy under his command had already lost four shipments that day, and if the bombing continued, they wouldn't even be able to transport the wounded.
"Take cover!" Everyone crawled into the air-raid shelter. Just as they sat down, the alarm was lifted.
It doesn't hide; it deliberately chooses densely populated areas to self-destruct.
Bleeding, screams, panic—psychological stress is far more deadly than physical injury.
For an entire day, the Sijiaer Hive City Alliance fortress was not peaceful for a moment.
That evening, the coalition held an emergency military meeting.
The dimly lit conference room was starkly white. The Earl sat in the main seat, his face ashen, his clothes still stained with red wine.
Before he could speak, a cold, mocking voice rang out first.
"Your Excellency," Earl Cole said, arms crossed, a sneer playing on his lips, "Didn't you say that some Lower Hive native was no threat at all?"
"Didn't you say our defenses were impregnable?"
"Didn't you boast that you'd take Alpha Hive City in a month?"
Every word the other person uttered was a precise replica of his original words.
Earl Octavius's expression grew increasingly grim.
Cole didn't stop there. He leaned forward and delivered the final blow. "Your ground troops went out of the city last time, but they were forced back by a minefield less than five kilometers away. Those mines were modified pressure cookers, you know?"
"Would you like me to help you recall the battle report from that time?"
The meeting room was silent; everyone lowered their heads, trying to suppress their laughter.
Earl Octavius clenched his fists tightly; he desperately wanted to draw his gun and shoot his mortal enemy on the spot.
That won't work; both sides are part of the coalition forces and do not have the authority to execute in wartime.
"I will handle it." Earl Octavius suppressed his raging anger and uttered these four words.
The meeting ended unhappily.
The Tech-Priest submitted the latest statistical report, "Sir, the number of enemy drones is steadily increasing, currently occurring every ten minutes, with over 2,800 attacks per day."
Our interception rate was 68.3%.
He paused for half a second, then added, "If this continues, we won't be able to sustain it."
Earl Octavius rubbed his throbbing temples, a single name flashing through his mind.
There is only one person who can solve this problem.
Communication was established immediately.
On the screen, Reck asked with a surprised look, " Earl lord, what are your instructions?"
"Why are the drones attacking again?!" the Earl asked, suppressing his anger.
Reck blinked, his tone sincere yet aggrieved. "Sir, I recently made a large-scale purchase of Wetware, and the other party's factory is supplying them at full capacity, with production capacity being tilted towards them."
"My cash flow has dried up, and in order to redeem my ships, I have no choice but to stop the acquisitions."
So that's the situation we're in right now.
The Rogue Trader Reck, made his unspoken message crystal clear: It's all your fault.
Earl Octavius's chest heaved violently, and he remained silent for a long time.
Is it all my fault for co-authoring?
Earl Octavius is now faced with a choice: money or face.
This question is actually quite easy to answer. As an aristocrat, face is more important than anything else.
"I'll have someone send the advance payment, but I need your guarantee that the attacks will stop immediately!"
Reck looked troubled and carefully spoke, "Sir, Fu Haoran comes from a humble background, is ruthless, and has no restraint in harvesting Wetware."
"His inventory is terrifying; he can't possibly deplete it all in the short term."
"The simplest and most direct way to make him reluctant to use it for war is to raise the price."
Octavius's eyes hardened.
He wanted to refuse, but then he thought of the criticisms and spectators he had just received at the meeting.
He swallowed the words that were about to come out.
Since it's all the coalition's money being spent, why should I care? It's not my own money.
"The purchase price is increased to fifteen Throne Coin! This is the highest price I can offer you."
The order has been issued.
The following day, drone attacks almost disappeared, with only two or three occasionally making a token bombing of an open area, causing no real harm.
Earl Octavius declared triumphantly at the high-level military meeting, "I've said it before, as long as I'm here, the enemy is nothing but a paper tiger."
As for the cost—don't ask, there isn't one.
Problems that can be solved with money are not problems.
"Anyway, this money won't go into my pocket, so I might as well spend it."
As a result, the atmosphere in the conference room changed dramatically, with everyone agreeing and showering praise upon the attendees.
Earl Octavius stood before the French windows, a glass of red wine in hand, gazing at the calm, still night sky, a haughty smile playing on his lips.
Meanwhile, in the war room of the Governor's Office's Mansion in Alpha Hive City, the atmosphere was completely different.
"You fucking took half the kickback?!" Yuri slammed his fist on the table, pointed at Reck's nose, his face contorted in pain. "That's Servitor 10..."
One Throne Coin, 12 Throne Coin for Servo-Skull, and you swallowed half of it?!
"Shameless! Disgusting! Pah!"
Reck stood there obediently, his face unchanged, his skin as thick as a steel plate from the Hive City.
He had just been looking completely innocent in front of the Earl, and now he was acting all obedient in front of his new boss, switching between the two personas without a trace.
Tychus, Cigar dangling from his lips, looked on with envy that bordered on red. He smacked his lips and muttered, "Disgusting—truly disgusting."
"Why don't I get a share of this lucrative opportunity?"
Even the usually indifferent Tech-Priest, Kallen, couldn't help but complain, "You Rogue Trader dirty-minded, even more so than us Machine Cult selling parts!"
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Suddenly, a light, airy voice spoke, "Now, what do you plan to do?"
Lucifer, feeling the matter wasn't serious enough, pressed further. "If you stop the attacks, they'll stop paying. But if you continue bombing, are you willing to give up that money?"
That wicked woman actually saw right through me!
Previously, the ability of inexpensive drones to accurately locate targets, bypass defenses at low altitudes, and autonomously bomb relied entirely on Wetware -produced, rudimentary biological processors made from human brains.
Wetware can no longer be used casually, and positioning methods have been completely discontinued.
But there are solutions.
"Next, we need to reduce Wetware consumption and return to mechanical physical navigation."
Lucifer rolled her eyes, elegant yet disdainful. "Thank you for answering my pointless question."
Fu Haoran knew, of course, that he was talking nonsense; things are always easier said than done.
He opened the data panel in front of him, which displayed a list of prices.
Originally a high-end military-grade gyroscope, Analog Devices ADIS16488, priced at 30,000 RMB.
Too expensive, Fu Haoran crossed it out without hesitation.
An alternative is to disassemble a consumer mobile phone and use a miniature gyroscope, which costs only a few hundred RMB.
The fuselage material has been replaced with inexpensive PVC pipes and engineering plastics instead of carbon fiber.
Eliminate high-end sensors; as long as it can fly, explode, remain stable, and dive, that's enough.
Looking at the low price on the screen, Lucifer gave a "positive" assessment. "You're as despicable as ever."
"Short-lived races always manage to devise the dirtiest and most efficient ways to survive."
Fu Haoran shrugged. "There's no way around it. Octavius gave us way too much. If we don't lower our costs, how can we do justice to this sucker Earl?"
"Luciefeld raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in her emerald eyes. "So you're planning to let these toys fly there by faith?"
Lucifer's words silenced everyone present.
Yeah, without Wetware guidance, how can it fly over?
Fu Haoran certainly had a solution: simply launch a few satellites. Their accuracy was ten times higher than that of the Wetware brain, and they could cover the entire planet around the clock.
But here's the problem: there's a coalition fleet in space. Putting a satellite there would just make it a target.
Fu Haoran remembered that the system also gave him a mission to shoot down or capture Cobra-class Destroyer, with the reward of a planetary defense orbital cannon with a range covering near-Earth orbit.
But this one railgun alone is far from enough.
"If only we had more, the Hive City has eight railguns. They're fine against Destroyer, but they're no match for cruisers."
[New Mission Triggered: Orbital Supremacy]
[Mission Difficulty: S-rank]
[Mission Objective: To deploy no fewer than 12,000 navigation satellites in near-Earth orbit around Si-Sai IV Planet, forming a global " SkyNet " positioning system and completely eliminating reliance on Wetware guidance.]
[Mission prerequisites: Shoot down or capture the Cobra-class Destroyer currently hovering at the edge of the atmosphere around Alpha Hive City, clear near-Earth orbit launch obstacles, and gain temporary air superiority]
[Mission Rewards: Fixed Volcano Cannon x1, Nova Cannon x1, Large Defense Laser x1 (These three items must be purchased separately using Universal Points and Throne Coin )]
[PS: Orbital supremacy means filling the orbit with your eyes and fists. When your " SkyNet " covers the entire planet, any intruding enemy ship will have nowhere to hide. From then on, the skies above Si-Sai IV belong only to you.]