Koski considered himself lucky. For a hundred thousand years, countless soldiers had worked to end the war; countless heroes had sacrificed their lives and shed their blood so that their descendants could grow up safely in an age of peace, marry, have children, and enjoy happiness—instead of having to join the military at eighteen, become infantry commanders, or, just to make a living, become Kolonian breeders, locked inside sealed chambers that never saw the sun year-round, facing rapidly growing Kolonian fetuses.
And in Koski's eyes, all of that was about to become reality. Whether commanders or soldiers, those fortunate enough to witness this moment would become witnesses to this milestone, with stories to boast about to their children and grandchildren someday.
Three months had passed since the recapture of the Twin Towers Star Sector. For those three months, the human-Protoss coalition had not stopped fighting for a single moment. For three months, they had blasted every planet in the war zone to pieces. For three months, they had emptied the human treasury built up over ten thousand years!
Yet whenever the commanders saw the Zerg now cowering within that tiny star sector, they felt that everything had been worth it.
Koski looked at the Protoss warships outside the window to his right. Those exquisitely crafted weapons of war, like works of art, had thoroughly convinced him over the past three months. Fortunately, the Protoss had far fewer warriors than humanity, and their losses in this war had been enormous. Otherwise, after wiping out the Zerg, Koski might have had to consider whether the Protoss would turn on them immediately...
"Sir, has the order from above still not come down?" Apri asked, somewhat dissatisfied.
Koski did not even glance at him. "What are you in such a hurry for? The more