After a short but necessary rest, Marcus began to explain the precise steps and objectives of their upcoming operation to the five individuals gathered before him. Beyond the verbal briefing, he also produced several photographs, laying them out on the table, and challenged the group to identify which one depicted a Genestealer.
"Uh, can I choose all of them?" Isaac asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice as he stared at the bizarre, multi-limbed, and sometimes tentacled mutants in the photos.
"Of course not," Marcus replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "These are all legal Imperial citizens, still considered a type of Human. On those four ships, there are many such mutant crew members. Don't let your hands tremble and accidentally injure friendly forces when you go up." Marcus then provided a concise overview of the most prominent features of the hybrid Tyranid Genestealers: the distinctive purple carapace on their foreheads and the back of their heads, their pale skin, slightly swollen craniums, and of course, the truly dangerous, pureblood Tyranid Genestealers.
"Sir, it's time for the operation. The PDF Soldiers have assembled," a noble guard announced, pushing the door open.
"It's about time. Let's head to the spaceport," Marcus said, rising and leading the five towards another, larger spaceport. Along the way, they observed many PDF Soldiers in their standard bulletproof armor assembling. The total force numbered around ten thousand. After all, the mission was merely to clear four trade ships that had not been completely overrun; there was no need to commit excessive troops. If these ten thousand were all elite Cadian soldiers, this operation would undoubtedly be a resounding victory. Unfortunately, the quality of Avarax's planetary defense forces was significantly inferior to that of Cadian regiments. Of the ten thousand sent, probably less than half would survive.
After guiding the five to their spacecraft, Marcus called out to Isaac. "Now, you are the temporary captain of this kill team. Does anyone else have any objections?" Marcus glanced at the other four. Naturally, they had no objections. Isaac was the most experienced among them and also possessed the strongest Psionics, making him the logical choice for captain.
"Alright, don't look so down," Marcus said with a smile, patting Isaac's shoulder. He then called over two Elite Marauders. "Here, they're for you."
"Iron Hammer Security, reporting to you," the two Marauders stated, raising their grenade launchers in salute.
"Just treat them as clone soldiers; in critical moments, you can let them take damage for you." Looking at the heavily armored Marauders, who stood over two meters tall, Isaac finally managed a slight smile.
The spacecraft's engine preheated, then spewed out dazzling flames, and the vessel immediately soared into the sky. Alongside other spacecraft from the spaceport, it headed towards the four trade ships docked in orbit.
During this ascent, Wesker gazed through the window at the magnificent Hive City, gradually revealing its full, sprawling appearance. "What are you looking at?" Wesker turned his head to the others, speaking directly. "I'm thinking if we can ask the captain to restart the plan for mass-producing Tyrants."
At the mention of this, the atmosphere within the team immediately grew tense. Jill and Carlos, in particular, deeply resented the Umbrella Corporation and all forms of biological weapons. "You'd better explain yourself clearly," Jill said coldly, "or I'll report to the captain that you're still a remnant of the Umbrella Corporation."
"You've all seen the data and understand how dangerous this world is," Wesker replied indifferently. "Tyrants, as biological weapons that can be mass-produced, are extremely practical."
"But you should know that mass-producing Tyrants requires a specific rare compound that can only be extracted from the brains of adolescents," Carlos interjected. However, recalling Wesker's gaze towards the Hive City moments ago, he suddenly stood up. "You're not thinking of...?"
Wesker operated his RIG System and transmitted a piece of data to the other four. The data contained a video, full of static. In the video, children, probably only about ten years old, constantly performed repetitive, dangerous physical labor in a giant factory under the whips of roaring overseers, all in exchange for meager rations. Every time a whip fell, someone would scream and collapse, only to be directly dragged away, their fate unknown. The other children, witnessing this, would work even harder out of fear.
"This is a true image of the lower levels of the Hive City, which I obtained from a noble servant," Wesker explained, then brought up a file on the special compound required for mass-producing Tyrants. It's worth noting here that on the Ishimura, a large amount of the Umbrella Corporation's various research data was still preserved. Despite this, Marcus's second-stage mission to "completely eliminate all research results and data of the Umbrella Corporation" had supposedly been completed.
"This special compound is key to mass-producing controllable Tyrants," Wesker continued. "Originally, it required constantly stimulating the minds of children around ten years old, making them feel fear, to extract only a tiny amount." He then pointed towards the Hive City below. "As far as I know, this single Hive City has hundreds of millions of adolescents of suitable age who are experiencing things even our Umbrella Corporation couldn't achieve: almost continuous fear, 24 hours a day."
Jill and Carlos were both speechless. Although they had only been in this world for a short time, they could tell from the previous data and those abominable creations like the Cherubs what kind of dire lives people under the Imperium of Man regime lived. Wesker was indeed not wrong; they didn't need to actively torment those people, as there were ready-made ones right before their eyes. Surely, this couldn't be called inhumane, could it?
"According to my calculations, if enough compound collection stations are established, it would be sufficient to achieve large-scale mass production of T-103 Tyrants," Wesker concluded. "And this is not our world; facing those bizarre aliens, there is no need to adhere to ethics and morals." After this speech, even Jill, who had always been at odds with Wesker, temporarily found herself unable to refute him. "Look at those PDF Soldiers around us. They all have their own families, and now they have to go eradicate dangerous aliens. If we can produce a large number of Tyrants, this problem will be easily solved."
"Alright, stop for now and focus on the current mission," Isaac interjected, cutting short Wesker's lengthy discourse. "We're almost at our destination." The others looked out the porthole, where four trade ships, each even larger than the Ishimura, floated ominously in the void.
"When you survive, then you can pitch your Tyrants to the captain," Isaac said, skillfully checking his various weapons and equipment. Wesker didn't say much either and, along with the others, checked his own weapons and equipment.
"Thud!" With a dull sound, the spacecraft docked on the side of Trade Ship Number Three.