Strauss leaned back in his wide command chair, carved from a single piece of obsidian.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on the cold armrests, and his gray-blue eyes gleamed with triumphant satisfaction. Before him hovered a glass of amber-colored strong liquor, produced in the Empire's core star sector. Its rich aroma perfectly complemented his current mood.
"Good, very good…"
He murmured to himself, a cold smile playing on his lips.
Frankly, this pincer offensive plan he had named "Garden Gate" should have been more fully and perfectly prepared in his sand table simulations. His ideal scenario was to wait until the production capacity of the portable stargates increased a bit more, until the new electronic warfare modules earmarked for the Pandora Fleet were all deployed, and until several deeper-placed sleeper agents within the higher echelons of the Federation could play more crucial roles…
But the disastrous defeat at Savannah disrupted everything.
That Federation brat named Qin Beiwang was like a poisonous thorn, not only severely wounding his fleet but also seriously shaking his prestige. It had made him the "Fuel-Adding General" that certain political rivals within the Supreme Command Council privately mocked.
What made him even more anxious was that the glorious military merits from Savannah would likely cause the Federation's top brass to divert even more resources to the Ten Stone Starfield.
He could wait no longer.
He could not give Qin Beiwang, or any other Federation commander in the Ten Stone Starfield, any more opportunities to accumulate military merit.
Thus, overriding all objections and even assuming considerable risk, he launched the not-yet-fully-prepared Garden Gate plan ahead of schedule.
And now, it seemed…
"This risky move was the right one."
Strauss picked up his glass and took a small sip, allowing the fiery liquid to burn his throat, bringing a thrilling sense of controlling fate.
The Federation's reaction was even more sluggish and chaotic than he had anticipated. Their defensive line rapidly crumbled under the multi-pronged surprise attacks, their reserve force deployments were dysfunctional, and their command system seemed to be suffering from judgmental disagreements. Everything was proceeding like the most ideal simulation. The Imperial Fleet was advancing with overwhelming force, tearing a massive, bloody gash into the soft underbelly of the Ten Stone Starfield.
"Qin Beiwang…"
He uttered the name, his gaze sinister.
"The luck of Savannah will not favor you forever. This time, I will bury you, that fleet of yours gained by sheer fluke, and the entire Ten Stone Starfield along with you."
He called up another just-received encrypted communique from the Empire's Supreme Command Council.
[Resolution Regarding Reinforcements for the Opal War Zone: In view of the significant initial progress of Operation Garden Gate, and to consolidate gains and accelerate the achievement of strategic objectives, it is hereby resolved to dispatch the Himiel Sequence Fleet to the Opal War Zone, to be placed under the unified command of General Strauss. Estimated time of arrival: 5 standard days from now.]
"Himiel…"
Strauss savored the name, his smile widening.
Although it was only one Sequence Fleet, not the two he had most hoped for, this was already the maximum support the Supreme Command Council could provide given the various competing interests. The arrival of these fresh forces would become the final straw that breaks the back of the Federation's defensive line in the Ten Stone Starfield.
This was also the crucial weight that would ensure the final glory of this campaign would fall indisputably upon him, Strauss.
By then, the disgrace of Savannah would be completely washed away.
He would no longer be the Fuel-Adding General, but a conqueror who expanded the Empire's territory and shattered an entire star domain defensive line of the Federation in one fell swoop!
He could almost see the scene of the Emperor conferring a medal upon him during the triumphant ceremony, the speechless expressions of his political rivals, and the smooth path to further advancement within the Empire's military circles.
"Transmit orders to Erebus and Ares!"
Strauss set down his wine glass, his voice regaining its customary coldness and authority.
"Instruct them not to spare ammunition and to accelerate the mopping-up speed.
Before Himmel arrives, I want to see the Blue Moon, Flowing Light, Vast Mansion, and Myriad Forms star systems completely transformed into the Empire's forward fortresses, with no worries left behind."
"Additionally, remind Pandora that its mission is to pin down the Federation's Vault Fleet.
I don't need it to inflict massive casualties; its mere presence there is the greatest constraint on the Federation."
He took one last look at the red tide on the star chart, breaking through all defenses with irresistible force, and felt immensely satisfied.
So what if the plan was moved up?
In the face of absolute strength and exquisite calculation, the Federation was nothing but a lamb awaiting slaughter.
Suddenly, a cold yet pleased curve appeared at the corner of Strauss's mouth. His gaze fell upon the area on the star chart already half-encircled by the Empire's offensive—Cliff Sun, Tower Sun, and... Elvira.
"The Pluto Fleet..."
He murmured this name that had brought him shame, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.
"You escaped by luck at Savannah. This time, let's see where you can hide."
He leaned forward slightly, issuing a clear and ruthless command.
"Transmit orders to the Pandora Fleet!
In addition to containing the Vault Fleet, sever all connections between the Elvira Star System and the Shang Yu Star System for me!
I want Elvira to become a completely isolated island!"
"Simultaneously, order the three Duke-class Fleets currently stationed in the Savannah Star System—Gorgon, Capricorn, and Lava Roar—"
He deliberately emphasized the words "Duke-class Fleets."
"To immediately end their rest and enter the Highest Combat Readiness Status!
Target: the Elvira Star System!"
He paused, enunciating each word as if pronouncing a death sentence.
"Mission: Assault Elvira. Spare no cost. You must—Annihilate the Pluto Fleet for me!
I want to see the wreckage of Qin Beiwang's fleet littering the starry sky of Elvira!"
As soon as the order was given, a wave of suppressed gasps instantly swept through the command hall.
Three... Duke-class Fleets!
To deal with a single Federation mother-class fleet?
The Senior Officers present could not conceal their shock and bewilderment.
Duke-class Fleets were the backbone of the Imperial Navy. Their standard Organization typically included around 3,000 vessels of various main force and Support Ship types.
Their scale and combat power were equivalent to the combined might of 7 to 8 enhanced mother-class fleets!
Three Duke-class Fleets meant nearly nine thousand starships!
That was almost brushing against the threshold of a ten-thousand-ship scale!
And their target—the Pluto Fleet, even after being reinforced to a mother-class fleet, had a core combat vessel count of only around 300 ships.
Using nine thousand starships to besiege three hundred?
This was beyond using a butcher's knife to kill a chicken; it was like employing a Planetary-Class Orbital Cannon to swat a fly!
"General!"
Chief of Staff Admiral Timothy Bradley couldn't help but take a step forward, cautiously proposing.
"Could this... be overly cautious?
Although the Pluto Fleet has an impressive combat record, it is ultimately only a mother-class fleet.
Would deploying three Duke-class Fleets create a defensive void in the Savannah Direction?
Moreover, such massive troop movements and subsequent operational consumption would place immense pressure on logistics."
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