Stars See Me [Interstellar] | Chapter 69 | The First Vanguard | Novela.app

In the past, someone on the Galactic Star Net posed a question: *If you discovered one day that your race had reached its end, how would you feel?* Users across the Star Net responded enthusiastically. Some answers spanned five hundred thousand bytes, while others were a single sentence. Some had been famous for a century; others were perhaps still being written this very moment. However, almost all of them could be summarized into three core sentiments: "What’s it to you?" "What’s it to me?" and "There’s actually such a good thing?" ...Essentially, the general consensus was quite aggressive. But this truly reflected the internal state of the Galactic Complex: a chaotic clash of ideologies, severe alienation, rampant nihilism, skepticism, and criticism. Everyone prioritized hostility toward other living beings in any dialogue. This situation had persisted from the mid-to-late period of the Galactic Empire to the present—a grave historical legacy. To this day, technology advances boundlessly, yet human relationships regress like certain moral standards. Even though the resources people depend on for survival are sufficient, hostility remains perpetually brewed within the predatory instincts of biological life. And now, that hostility had arrived before the Orion Human Union. "Some things no longer wish to share this starry sky with us," Susanna said. Lei Ting shared a transport module with her, Sandro, Lucas, Yolanda, and others. When she spoke, most of the acquaintances around them nodded in agreement. Looking at the sealed repulsion barrier, Lei Ting’s gaze was somewhat vacant. By now, these hundreds of transport ships had submerged into deep space, surrounded by escort fleets. He was carried by this procession of steel as if he were merely a passerby to these stars. The familiar starlight passed by the porthole beside him, just as they, too, were mere passersby in his life. It was a strange sensation. It didn't relax Lei Ting’s perpetually taut nerves, but it made him feel as though he were seeing another side of the world—a side invisible from the ground. He had always liked the feeling of being in a space environment. Looking at the starry sky from a different angle made him feel more at ease. Every time he brushed past a star, he felt a new spiritual experience. Within the keen perception of a high-level psionic, the rhythmic mechanical hum of the ship came from all directions, echoing in an endless drone. Lei Ting could see the scenery outside the porthole and the escort fleet guarding them in the distance. Theoretically, with them here, everyone was safe. Was that so? Lei Ting remembered the Principal’s warning, which had tried to bypass all surveillance, and he remembered how her gaze used to look at him—as if seeing a raging fire. He knew his fire and light had already drawn the attention of the stars. They all knew that fire would continue to burn in that sky, which carried countless values and stories, whether for a short time or long. Before changing into standard-issue equipment, Lei Ting took a deep look at Valen’s communication ID. He didn't seize this last chance to send a message. He simply stared for a moment before turning off the external interface of his optical computer and undoing its mechanical lock with a perfectly standard procedure. But before he could don his standard gear, the door to his compartment swung open. An unfamiliar officer walked straight in, stopped before Lei Ting’s seat, and reached out to show him something. The compartment fell into a sudden silence. A silver light flashed briefly in the gloved hand. Lei Ting narrowed his eyes slightly: it was a badge fastener from the cloak of the First Legion Commander, Valianna Berekov. He had noticed it as early as three years ago—a golden five-pointed star with faint scratches that shimmered conspicuously under the lights. "Bring your combat gear," the officer said in a low voice, emphasizing the word *your*. "Lei Ting." *Lei Ting.* This form of address did not belong to the military’s terminology, nor the Academy’s, nor any internal faction. It belonged only to him. Lei Ting’s gaze swept over the people around him—they watched him from behind their barriers, their faces distorted by the one-way concealment effect, their gazes blurred. "Yes," he answered calmly. When the repulsion barrier disengaged, he left the two compression tanks by his seat without a hint of lingering attachment. As he stepped out of the transport module fully armed, the only thing following him was that heavy, stylishly designed black metal box. By now, the fleet had passed through one of the dozen or so star-gates around the Capital System that hadn't been closed yet. They had entered deep navigation mode, heading toward the inner side of the Orion Arm at full speed. In truth, the current situation wasn't quite right. Generally speaking, the first ones deployed into war should never be military academy students; the Federation’s thousand-plus legions weren't all dead yet. Currently, the higher-ups had no intention of a general draft, yet they had been prioritized for mobilization. What the front lines likely lacked was... high-end combat power and operators who could quickly integrate into the operational systems of various legions. In other words... various types of psionics with mental strength at Grade D or above. Given that the Federation’s Ordnance Research Institute had yet to reduce the operational requirements for certain key war machines below Grade D mental strength, this level remained the minimum entrance standard for all military academies in the Federation. However, those who joined the army through other means weren't restricted by this... Psionics were a minority, after all. Ninety-nine percent of Federation soldiers had mental strength at the level of ordinary people. Yet, under excellent discipline, tactical planning, and weapon supply, they could exert awe-inspiring combat effectiveness. Of course... given that the first of those three often failed to keep up, based on what Lei Ting knew, among the 1,552 legions of the Federation, at least a thousand had combat effectiveness that... couldn't be called non-existent, but was merely better than nothing. Lei Ting followed the stranger, who introduced himself as "Green," into an unfamiliar conference room. Here, he saw many familiar projections—First Legion Chief of Staff Alex Vorban, Angye’s Chief of Staff Bai Yin, Yondel’s Chief of Staff Celia... and several people he didn't recognize. They introduced themselves as the Chief of Staff of the Seventh Legion, Vox; the Chief of Staff of the 42nd Legion, Morino; the Director of the Federation Ordnance Research Institute; the Director of the Federation Medical Research Institute; and... "Assistant to the Federation Speaker, Mirar. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lei Ting," a plain-looking woman said with a smile. Her ethereal holographic projection reached out to Lei Ting. After Lei Ting shook her hand with a polite smile, she suddenly dissipated. Then, she appeared at the head of the conference table and said, "Now, the meeting begins." The scene projection expanded instantly. The seven people on the left side of the long table and the one at the head all sat down. Only Lei Ting and Green beside him remained standing as physical entities. Of course, they soon received their own seats—on the other side of the conference table. Lei Ting sat in the first seat on his side, closest to the head of the table, while Green sat behind and to his side, looking like a secretary acting as a stenographer. This made him feel somewhat out of place... Oh, the name "stenographer" was also a bit too retro. As early as the 22nd century, this profession had completely disappeared from the social structure of humanity. In the meeting that followed, Lei Ting didn't see a single person bickering. For the Federation, this was truly a bit terrifying, but it also proved the importance of the meeting’s theme— "—We will form a team of psionic warriors under the age of twenty-five. It will be divided into five five-man squads. And you, Lei Ting," Mirar said, "you will be its 'Vanguard One.' Green will be your scribe." As she spoke, the ship seemed to lurch. It had performed another jump—even after leaving the Capital Sector, the Federation’s people didn't lack induction fields on their own turf. Lei Ting’s expression was solemn and calm. He met Mirar’s projected gaze, listening to her words and the ultimate goal of this meeting. "But remember, everything in this squad will serve you," Mirar said. "We will give you missions, and you will lead them to completion. I guarantee they are sufficiently 'precise, efficient, and fearless,' and not one of them is below Grade A." Lei Ting nodded calmly. "Precise, efficient, fearless"—these were the basic qualities of a Vanguard Squad. Just as the "Logistics Chief" had said back then, a mature psionic warrior would always resolve a battle in the most concise and efficient manner... Well, it was only through later studies that Lei Ting learned that from the very beginning, the Academy’s combat training for him had been aimed at creating the "Perfect First Vanguard." This wasn't a title an ordinary person could bear. But Lei Ting was no ordinary person. "Tell me, what do I need to do?" he said in a deep voice. Mirar revealed a satisfied smile. ... ... Several hours later, Lei Ting left the conference room. He had been given a raid mission; it was a test. Soon, he would need to leave the fleet with his teammates for the coming period. As "Vanguards," they would pilot their own ship to the mission location to eliminate a group of space pirates blocking the way in Federation space. Lei Ting didn't know where those pirates got the courage to hijack routes within the Federation’s internal sectors, even hijacking the military... Perhaps they were mad dogs kept by certain people within the Federation? No, those fellows weren't that stupid, nor were they that capable... He frowned in thought, not returning to his original position. Instead, he went to his new seat—a small compartment with a capacity for only five people. Through his perception of the metal structure, he clearly understood the construction of this thing. It was similar to the modular buildings on the *Sun*; it was something that could drop off the ship as soon as the latches were released. His luggage had already been sent to the compartment next to this transport module. Now, his new seat was a single-pilot psionic mecha deployment pod. It was fixed together with four other deployment pods, arranged like a flower or a cluster of pillars. —A psionic isn't necessarily a mecha pilot, but a single-pilot mecha pilot is definitely a psionic, and an excellent psionic warrior certainly has their own mecha. "Your teammates will arrive soon," Green said, offering him a smile full of goodwill. "However... just as mentioned in the meeting, they aren't necessarily all your colleagues—there may also be criminals who have undergone 'sanitization' or others. You needn't concern yourself with them. At critical moments, you may sacrifice them to ensure your own safety and the success of the mission." ***