"Gold epaulettes!"
The words pierced the air of the command center like an electric shock.
In the Empire's military, gold star epaulettes were the exclusive insignia of general officers and above.
This meant the Commander was summoning all the generals of the entire Theater Command!
A wave of suppressed commotion and hurried footsteps immediately echoed through the corridors.
All the general officers who had been handling affairs in their respective offices—regardless of branch or what they were occupied with—jolted at the unprecedented roar. Without hesitation, they dropped everything and swiftly made their way toward the Operations Conference Room at the heart of the command center.
No one dared to speak or even exchange glances.
Everyone could sense the terrifying pressure of an impending storm from Strauss's abnormal, undisguised fury.
Some younger civilian officers or junior staff officers were so frightened they cowered behind their desks, not even daring to lift their heads.
They had never seen Commander Strauss, known for his stern and imposing demeanor, lose his composure like this—so… murderously enraged.
About half an hour had passed since Strauss's roar summoned all the general officers to the Operations Conference Room.
The atmosphere in the Combat Briefing Room remained tense. Junior officers processed intelligence from other star domains, but everyone was somewhat distracted, their ears seemingly still pricked for any movement from the corridor or the conference room.
Suddenly, the highest-priority communication alert tone pierced the oppressive silence.
A young intelligence officer practically lunged at his terminal, swiftly decrypting and reading the message.
His face turned from pale to ashen in seconds, his lips trembling as he tried several times to speak but failed to produce a sound.
"What… what's going on?" a colleague beside him whispered, sensing something was wrong.
The intelligence officer finally found his voice, dry as sandpaper.
"From… the Mermaid Fleet. Encryption confirmed… the Megalodon Fleet… in the Jump Point Z-78 region of the Savannah Star System… confirmed to have encountered an ambush and been annihilated. The enemy… is highly suspected to be the main force of the Pluto Fleet."
Clang!
Someone knocked over a metal pen holder on a desk.
The briefing room instantly fell into dead silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Everyone froze in place, their faces etched with utter shock and bewilderment.
Megalodon… annihilated too?
Another fleet?
And a full, classified fleet at that!
Over a hundred starships!
How long had it been since the last report of the Iron Curtain and other fleets suffering a devastating defeat?
"This is impossible!" a middle-aged intelligence officer stood up abruptly, his voice cracking with agitation.
"The timing doesn't add up! The Iron Curtain's intelligence was delayed! They must have delayed reporting after being attacked; otherwise, how could the interval between the two battle reports be so short? The two locations are so far apart! Megalodon must have jumped in later, and then immediately—"
"Silence!" Senior Colonel Shane Crawford, the head of the Strategic Briefing Room, sharply cut him off.
"This is not the time to analyze whether the Iron Curtain Fleet reported late!"
He took a deep breath, as if summoning immense courage to face the thin yet weighty battle report before him, and... the person he would soon have to confront.
His gaze slowly swept across the officers in the room. Everyone he looked at instinctively lowered their heads, averted their eyes, or pretended to be busy.
"This intelligence..."
Crawford's voice was hoarse.
"...must be reported to the Commander immediately."
He paused, then asked a question that made everyone's hearts constrict.
"Who will go?"
Silence.
A suffocating silence.
The briefing room, which had been stirred by shock moments ago, was now so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
The officers wished they could bury their heads in their chests or turn into decorations on the wall.
No one dared to look up and meet the officer-in-charge's gaze, and no one answered.
Are you kidding?
The Commander had just erupted in fury over the previous disastrous defeat, berating all the generals in the conference room and leaving his office in shambles.
Now, to take this report—ten times worse than the last, announcing the total annihilation of yet another main fleet—and deliver it to him?
This wasn't a report; it was like detonating a bomb, with yourself at the epicenter!
Senior Colonel Crawford scanned the room, his eyes finally settling on the young intelligence officer.
"What's your name?"
Crawford glanced at the four silver diamond patterns on the other's epaulette.
Then he called out.
"Captain?"
The young intelligence officer sprang to his feet.
He saluted Crawford and replied nervously.
"Yes, sir!
Reporting, Senior Colonel Crawford!
My name is Garrett Wolf!"
Crawford thought to himself.
Wolf?
Doesn't sound like a noble surname!
He'll do!
Crawford returned the salute casually.
Then he said.
"Captain Wolf!
I've heard you carry out orders to the letter!"
Wolf swallowed hard.
His mind raced, but he finally said.
"Yes, Senior Colonel, sir!
I would be honored to deliver this intelligence to General Strauss!
It is my privilege!"
Hearing this, Crawford immediately felt relieved.
If it had been some reckless fool, it would have been troublesome.
Since the other was willing to accept the task, it solved his own problem. He could always compensate the man afterward.
Outside the Operations Conference Room.
Captain Wolf felt the data pad in his hand was as heavy as starship armor.
He stiffly approached the tightly shut, excellently soundproofed alloy door. The closer he got, the clearer the muffled yet unmistakably furious shouts and table-pounding from inside became, even through the door.
It was undoubtedly General Strauss's voice, roaring like an injured Thunder Beast.
He stopped before the door, took a deep breath, but it brought little courage.
He raised his hand and knocked three times on the cold metal, the sound so faint he could barely hear it himself.
"Get lost!"
Strauss's impatient roar came from inside immediately.
Wolf's Adam's apple bobbed. Steeling himself, he raised his voice slightly.
"Reporting, sir!
Commander!
It's... the latest battle report from the Savannah Star System!
Highest Priority!"
The angry cursing inside abruptly ceased.
After two seconds of silence, the lock made a soft click, and the door slid open automatically to one side.
Wolf stepped inside and was immediately suffocated by the oppressive atmosphere in the conference room.
Around the oval-shaped large conference table sat generals adorned with gold star epaulettes.
These usually lofty figures now hung their heads without exception, staring either at the tabletop before them or at their own fingers.
No one dared to exchange glances, much less look at the person seated at the head of the table.
The air was so heavy it felt as if it could be wrung out like water.