To avoid triggering any alarms, Lei Ting drifted toward his target at a speed barely faster than space debris. It took him over half an hour of floating to catch up with the steadily advancing starship and land upon its hull.
This made him look like some ghostly space parasite, the kind that specialized in gnawing on the hulls of starships—and such things did indeed exist. They could survive in a vacuum and fed on anything that emitted heat, but their bodies were so tiny and fragile that even an ordinary person could easily wipe out a swarm. They could never get close to the defense networks of habitable planets, so they had never caused any major disasters.
In space, the concept of "up" or "down" was fluid. Lei Ting walked slowly across the starship’s hull, less than thirty meters from its thrusters. The blazing blue flames radiated terrifyingly high temperatures, their light illuminating half his body. However, protected by his warframe and bolstered by his abundant superpowered energy, he remained unharmed.
This was the purpose of a single-soldier superpowered mecha—to enhance defensive performance and provide life support in all environments. After all, one had to stay alive to maintain an output.
Walking along the hull, Lei Ting stopped precisely at a specific point. He then quietly phased into the thick metal ship, which had been reinforced with extra defensive layers, and dropped into a narrow space.
Artificial gravity took effect immediately, the pull significantly heavier than what those from the Orion Federation were used to. Lei Ting did not land on the floor right away; instead, he easily righted himself in mid-air, hovering about a dozen centimeters above the ground.
...And nearly hit his head.
Lei Ting alertly ducked and looked around.
This place was a storage compartment. The ceiling was only about two meters high, and it was cluttered with piles of damaged equipment awaiting repair.
The reason for the Hataens' short lifespans lay in their unique genetics. Their cells automatically released any ingested energy, which naturally created their fearsome "Premature Aging Field," but also limited their energy storage capacity.
Consequently, they were naturally fragile and small. Even after over a dozen rounds of genetic adjustments, they had only managed to strengthen their physiques; their height had barely increased from an average of less than one meter for a healthy individual to just over a meter.
Thus, at first glance, the equipment looked like clothes for half-height dolls.
Lei Ting glanced around, and the scanning results appeared on his optical computer’s eyepiece: *[Hataen standard combat equipment; appears to have sustained damage during skirmishes with the Orion Human Federation.]*
Lei Ting did not release his mental sensory scan, but even so, he could sense all the metal in his surroundings. However, without his mental strength to guide his superpower, he could not control it.
Therefore, he did not act rashly. After a moment of contemplation, he drifted into a metal wall, causing a cavity to open within it for him. The excess Hataen aerospace alloy was flattened and layered over the wall's surface; no one could tell it was slightly thicker than before.
Before long, the door to the storage compartment opened, and two small figures walked in, talking.
Hataens looked like humanoid, evolved alien rams. The sharp, thin horns on their heads were their source of pride. During their lifespans—which were too short for their lifeforms to naturally sublimate—they would attach various standard or personally designed decorations to their horns to record their past experiences.
Plagiarizing another Hataen’s personal decorations or damaging their horns was not only considered immoral but was also a serious criminal offense.
Because those horns never stopped growing, were inedible, and were located close to the organs of memory and thought—the brain—they were viewed in Hataen religious thought like the rings of a tree. They were the record of their lives and the only thing that could prove they had once existed after their memories and knowledge were passed down.
For a short-lived species, this was one of the most important things in existence.
"I heard the Flo people's plan failed," said the Hataen walking in front. It went straight into the clutter, rummaging through the contents of several cabinets. "We're almost at 'Third Heaven.' We need to find that thing quickly..."
Lei Ting listened to their voices from within the wall, raising an eyebrow at the text provided by his optical computer’s translation module.
These guys called 'Hataen 25' the 'Third Heaven.' Of course, that was just the conclusion of the translation module; Lei Ting didn't know what the original term was.
In past Interstellar Racial Relations courses, teachers or instructional AIs had introduced tens of thousands of common races within the galaxy. If uncommon races were included, that number could reach four hundred thousand.
After all, at its peak, the galaxy held quadrillions of sentient beings. Even if there weren't as many now—and many races had even faced extinction during wars—it was hard for an ordinary person to imagine the constant noise, the rise, and the fall that filled this seemingly silent starry sky.
"That guy dropped the detector into the junk pile himself, yet he makes us come here to find it," the other Hataen grumbled. "So annoying..."
"Shh, keep it down. That’s the Commander’s nephew, he’s just here to experience life," the first Hataen warned in a low voice. "You dare talk about him? Do you want to die?"
"What’s there to be afraid of? If you ask me, we haven't had a single good day since the military government took power. Now we have to fight the Orion people... Are they even someone we can fight? They’re taller than us, live longer than us, and they beat us in everything from combat will to resource supply..."
"Yes, yes, ancestor, stop talking. If you want to die, go outside and say it slowly. I don't want to die yet..."
Lei Ting lay curled in the cavity he occupied, his brow furrowed as he stroked his chin.
—Military government?
The Hataens had long been a pure monarchy. The inheritance of memory made their class stratification extremely rigid... yet now, he was hearing these two Hataens mention a 'military government'?
Regarding this key piece of information, Lei Ting quickly drafted a memo in his optical computer, which was set to silent mode. He would send it to someone who could handle it once he returned from this mission.
Then, listening to the conversation between the two enemies, he gradually began to understand a few things.
...
About eight years ago, the Hataens' relatively stable society had encountered the greatest upheaval in its history. Several vassal rulers, with status similar to 'feudal lords,' rebelled against their King, much like the Kings of the Galactic Empire had once resolved to oppose their Emperor.
But the difference between these two events was that when the forty-two Imperial Princes rebelled, they were personally stripped of their forged crowns and their scalps by that incomparably powerful Emperor. In contrast, the Hataen lords' rebellion actually resulted in someone else taking the throne.
Under normal circumstances, this was almost impossible.
The Hataen royal family's rule was built upon the memories, skills, and knowledge passed down through generations. Even if they had only dared to call themselves 'Kings' for thousands of years and only claimed the title of 'Emperor' after the collapse of the Galactic Empire, they were as powerful as gods to the average Hataen.
Because they possessed a method to pass on memories perfectly—and could even inherit the muscle memory and partial superpower application memories of deceased ancestors—it was an objective fact that the Hataen supreme ruler was always the strongest Hataen warrior.
However, in that rebellion eight years ago, the Hataens truly had to accept the fact that times had changed. Five 'Lords'... no, 'Feudal Lords,' seemed to have obtained powerful strength from an unknown source. The weakest among them killed the Hataen King with a single blow, and the strongest ascended the throne.
Subsequently, a purge lasting six years began. From the current perspective, the results were outstanding.
But those who had gained a higher perspective and longer lives through unknown powers seemed to have forgotten one very important thing—
"If you ask me, the ones at the top are sick. Seriously ill," the Hataen ranted angrily. "They even want to cancel the link with the Syndicate... Are they crazy?!"
—Clearly, most Hataens, especially the 'elderly' Hataens over the age of ten, did not care about the issue of life and death.
Because everything they had came from the heritage of their ancestors, and after death, it would return to the lives of their descendants. Even if they left no descendants to 'consume' them, they would be entered into the Hataen Genetic Library, proving they had once existed through the great honor of having their horns displayed for a thousand years.
But... disconnecting from the Syndicate?
Lei Ting raised an eyebrow, highlighting the text regarding this information in red within his document.
The Galactic Syndicate existed to unify and protect everyone within the galaxy from external interference. Although this multi-layered protection circle was not perfect, its various systems were interconnected, doing their best to isolate the life within from crises.
Therefore, any regime located within the galaxy had to join the Syndicate. Furthermore, they were allowed to join but forbidden to leave; otherwise, the decision-makers would be prioritized as suspects for harboring a large number of extra-galactic spies.
First, it was for the integrity of the defense network; second, it was to ensure the Star Net base station network remained undamaged. These two points were vital to the galaxy.
After a while, the document had grown by a dozen kilobytes. To be honest, Lei Ting was surprised he could hear all this. After all, most of this information was at a level where "if this gets out, even those bureaucrats in the Syndicate would unanimously issue a final warning or even an extermination order to the Hataens!" It wasn't something an ordinary Hataen soldier should know.
The two left. Lei Ting stared at the words in his document. He felt the security scanning power projected from the direction of 'Hataen 25'—or 'Third Heaven'—filter over his body, which had its superpower fluctuations disguised, as he pondered the potential problems here.
This was exactly why he, as a 'warrior,' insisted on studying hard. In the future upheavals, knowing only how to kill people would clearly not be enough.
A high-quality superpowered warrior had to know how to kill people while also knowing how to save them, how to make an enemy spit out correct intelligence, how to pilot any common vehicle and use weapons as common as they were, how to distinguish the most important target in a scene... as well as how to filter the most valuable information from intelligence, and how to turn potential allies into certain ones.
After a long while, the starship's flight speed gradually slowed, finally docking at a location near the planet. The starship's internal gravity system performed a perfect self-adjustment, and Lei Ting sensed the environment outside.
His expression turned solemn.
Because what the starship had docked with was not the planet's surface, but a space elevator used for cargo transport, guarded by a large number of personnel.
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Stars See Me [Interstellar] | Chapter 80 | Secrets of the Third Heaven | Novela.app | Novela.app
