The Stealth Ship Quietly Returned to Starport, a Silent Change at the Outer Defense Line
The Stealth Insertion Ship broke away from the jump channel and slid into the No. 3 Buffer Zone outside the core Starport of the Management Committee.
Lynn sat in the driver's seat, his fingers resting on the edge of the thruster damper lever, reducing the engine output to 15 percent.
Outside the porthole, the gray-painted frigate that should have been conducting routine patrols near Buoy No. 3 was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, there were four assault ships, all black with black sword reliefs cast on their prows.
They formed a diamond-shaped array that blocked the entrance to the main channel, and the close-in weapon turrets on both sides of the ship were in a semi-active state, with radar scanning beams sweeping across the void every three seconds.
The Third Patrol Team has been replaced.
That was a regular force jointly managed by the General Logistics Bureau and the Department of Defense. Normally, they were only responsible for verifying the authenticity of the passes and never inquired about the details of the cargo carried inside the ships.
The troops currently stationed here are armed forces from the Stability Maintenance Office directly under Hela.
Lynn looked at the yellow warning sign flashing on the central control screen and didn't touch the red communication button on the right that represented the highest level of immunity for the Director's Office.
He had just escaped from the XN-734 Ruins, clutching the forged confession written on paper specially supplied by the Department of Technology, when Hela's men replaced him on the outer perimeter of the Starport.
The movement was so fast, it was almost like they were timing it with a stopwatch, waiting for him to enter the net.
If he were to use his Director privileges to force his way through, it would not only confirm his guilt and claim that he had concealed his travel itinerary, but it would also provide the Stability Maintenance Office with an excuse to initiate a wartime blockade under the pretext of "preventing the infiltration of High-Risk Variant".
The other party put on this show precisely because they were waiting for him to abuse his power and bully others.
Lynn reached out his left hand and turned off the dial for the public and civilian reporting channel.
A burst of static came through the Communicator, followed by a cold, hard male voice.
"This is a temporary control post on the outskirts of the core Starport. Any unnumbered small ships ahead, immediately shut down your main thrusters and state your department, reason for returning, and navigation number."
The voice was completely devoid of politeness; it was entirely the tone of someone interrogating a prisoner.
Lynn retrieved the Logistics Department's routine field operation registration code, which he had prepared beforehand, and casually switched the spacecraft's identification code to that of a second-level scientific research auxiliary ship.
"Control post, this is Environmental Monitoring Ship B-44, belonging to the Seventh Exploration Section under the Logistics Department."
Lynn spoke in a calm tone and at a measured pace, with the stereotypical rigidity of a junior administrative staff member.
"Just returned from a Magnetic Field sampling mission in the outer asteroid belt, flight number H-0921, requesting allocation of a routine disinfection berth."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the communication channel.
Clearly, the officers from the Stability Maintenance Office responsible for the interception did not expect that this uniquely designed silent ship would report such an inconspicuous logistics and exploration organization.
"B-44 Monitoring Ship?"
The officer's voice was tinged with suspicion.
"This ship is not registered in our departure log. According to the ' Starport Level-One Combat Readiness Martial Law Order ' issued by the Stability Maintenance Office two hours ago, all returning vessels not registered with the Stability Maintenance Office are considered suspicious targets. Stop immediately, open the main hatch, and allow the Black Crow Guard to board and inspect the ship!"
The martial law order was issued two hours ago.
Lynn understood.
That was the moment he stepped into the ruined interrogation room, triggering the TVA's encirclement.
Hela didn't know what he had experienced in the ruins, but she must have noticed the abnormal fluctuations in the outer Timeline through some means, which is why she took advantage of the situation and extended her reach into the Starport Defense Line, which was originally under the jurisdiction of the Logistics Department.
Lynn did not get angry or argue; he simply pulled up the "Daily Dispatch Regulations for Logistics Ships of the Management Committee" on the control panel and read it down the clauses.
"Sir, according to Article 19 of Chapter 4 of the ' Starport Defense Coordination Rules ' promulgated by the Joint Conference of the Management Committee, the Stability Maintenance Office must submit a 'Defense Takeover Report' to the General Logistics Bureau and the Director's Office twelve hours in advance when taking over the outer waterways in a non-war situation."
Lynn paused, tapped twice on the Virtual Keyboard, and pushed an electronic receipt into the Public Channel.
"Our ship departed 16 hours ago, at a time when your office had not yet issued a martial law order. In accordance with the principle of 'no retroactive application of the law,' our ship is subject to the standard return-to-port procedures. If the officer wishes to forcibly board the ship, please provide the joint investigation order number signed by both the Director of the General Logistics Bureau and the Internal Affairs Inspection Office, so that I can report it to the recorder for filing."
These words were entirely based on regulations, without mentioning his true identity, yet they perfectly encapsulated the rigid procedures of officialdom.
The Stability Maintenance Office's unauthorized replacement of the Third Patrol Team was a unilateral act, and they certainly didn't have the joint approval slip from the General Logistics Bureau and the Internal Affairs Inspection Office.
Command Cabin of the black assault ship, the duty officer frowned deeply as he looked at the bolded logistical disclaimers that popped up on the screen.
The adjutant leaned closer and lowered his voice.
"Sir, the ship's serial number is indeed registered under the Seventh Exploration Section of the Logistics Department, and it's a redundant asset that was just approved three days ago. We don't have a countersignature document. If we forcefully break down the hatch, and it turns out it's carrying smuggled goods for some big shot from the General Logistics Bureau, those mad dogs in the Internal Affairs Inspection Office will definitely accuse us of overstepping our authority."
The officer gritted his teeth, staring at the small spaceship on the monitor screen, which was parked obediently outside the cordon and whose shields had been automatically lowered to the lowest level.
The more the other party followed the rules, the more uncertain he felt.
Within the Management Committee, those who dare to use trivial matters as a weapon to argue with the Stability Maintenance Office are either ignorant fools or tough guys with powerful backers deliberately luring people in.
"Damn it, a bunch of accounting clerks, all talk and no action."
The officer cursed, reached out and pressed the call button, his tone becoming somewhat more subdued than before.
"B-44, given that your ship previously stayed in a high-radiation area, boarding inspection is waived, but you must move to Special Quarantine Berth No. 17 for a full set of external radiation disinfection and cargo hold scanning. Any disobedience will be treated as smuggling contraband!"
This is a way for them to save face, passing the buck to the quarantine checkpoints inside the Starport.
"Understood, I will fully comply with the epidemic prevention regulations."
Lynn readily agreed and shut down the communication channel.
He pushed the damping lever, Stealth Insertion Ship, guided by the traction beam, glided past the blockade formed by four black assault ships and into Quarantine Channel 17 on the inner side of the Starport.
The heavy isolation gates closed at the stern, completely cutting off the darkness of outer space.
Lynn unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and straightened his dark gray logistics uniform, which had no rank insignia.
He glanced at the external monitoring screen on the side of the Bridge.
At the end of the corridor bridge at berth number seventeen, only one logistics and quarantine officer remained, while the other six positions were filled by internal security personnel from the Stability Maintenance Office, who wore black tight-fitting combat uniforms and carried energy batons at their waists.
Loose on the outside, tight on the inside.
The outer assault ships are just sieves; the real killer is the quarantine platform inside the Starport.
Lynn remained calm as he placed his hand on the hatch opening button.
The cabin door pressure relief valve made a soft sound, and the metal door panels slid open to both sides.
He stepped onto the covered bridge, his boots making a rhythmic sound as they stomped on the non-slip metal mesh.
Behind the quarantine station at the end of the covered bridge, the only remaining Logistics Department -aged quarantine officer from the logistics department was bowing his head, his hands arranging a stack of paper declaration forms on the workbench, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat.
The two security guards from the Stability Maintenance Office standing beside him crossed their arms and scanned Lynn up and down.
Lynn walked to the quarantine station, stopped, took out the Level 3 Logistics Dispatcher magnetic card that he had prepared beforehand, and placed it on the sensor area.
"B-44 Monitoring Ship, returning to port for reporting."
The quarantine officer nervously picked up the magnetic card and swiped it on the card reader.
drop.
The green indicator light on the control panel lit up.
However, when the quarantine officer saw the passport photo and the Highest Access Privileges code that popped up on the terminal screen, his finger trembled violently, and the magnetic card almost slipped from his hand and fell to the ground.
That was Director Lynn's face.
Even though the job title on the magnetic card reads "Level 3 Dispatcher," every senior official at Level 5 or above in the Management Committee knows this powerful Director who commands respect even from several ministers.
The quarantine officer suddenly looked up, opened his mouth, and the word "Director" was already in his throat.
Lynn looked at him and tapped her index finger lightly on the table.
"Follow the procedure, sir. My Magnetic Field sampling data is still on the ship's hard drive. Do I need to register for demagnetization?"
When the quarantine officer met Lynn's expressionless eyes, his heart skipped a beat. He swallowed the address that was about to come out and quickly lowered his head, his hands flying across the keyboard.
"No... no need. Routine sampling data is exempt from inspection. I'll issue you a pass receipt right away."
He grabbed the official seal, stamped it heavily on the paper receipt, and handed it back to Lynn with both hands.
Lynn took the receipt and magnetic card, thanked them, and stepped through the quarantine gate.
The two security guards from the Stability Maintenance Office exchanged a glance at the quarantine officer, who looked flustered. However, since the magnetic card verification had passed, they couldn't find any grounds to stop him.
Lynn walked slowly down the enclosed corridor leading to the main elevator, her steps uninterrupted, but her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the reflective glass panel on the side of the quarantine station.
In the reflection of the glass, the quarantine officer wiped the cold sweat from his brow while discreetly pressing a hidden button beneath the control panel with his right index finger.
In the lower right corner of the main control screen on the console, a dark red encrypted Data Stream, bypassing the Starport intranet and directly circumventing the firewall, flashed by, connecting directly to the highest command center of the Stability Maintenance Office via a dedicated fiber optic cable.