Chapter 169: The Ark Fleet Spy
Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Karai
At that moment, a medical staff member emerged from the hibernation thawing chamber, only to be immediately surrounded by the officers, causing her to take a half-step back in surprise.
“How is it? Has Marshal Meng awakened yet?”
The medical worker scanned the group and replied helplessly, “The thawing process is underway. Marshal Meng’s consciousness has not yet fully returned. If you wish to stay here and see Marshal Meng, please keep quiet.”
“We understand,” Conte nodded to her, then shot a glare at Posito. Posito snorted coldly at the medical worker’s warning but didn’t continue arguing with Conti. The medical staff returned to the thawing chamber to continue her work. After a short wait, the suited man’s terminal received a message.
“Everyone, Lin Xu and Heinrich Chu have arrived. I’ll go meet them. Please, remain here and wait for Marshal Meng.”
“Secretary-General Ashelan, I’ll come with you,” Largo said.
“Alright,” Ashelan replied. “Heinrich Chu’s Victoria will be docked at Dock 81. We’ll take the shuttle over.”
Ten minutes after Ashelan and Largo left, the hibernation thawing chamber door opened again. A vigorous old man stepped out, and Conte and Posito immediately approached him.
“Marshal Meng.”
Meng Zhenhua nodded steadily. “I heard from the medical staff that you woke me because more important guests have arrived.”
“That’s right,” Posito said. “Heinrich Chu, commander of the Imperial Seventh Legion, has defected and come to the Alliance.”
“Oh?” Meng Zhenhua’s interest piqued. Thirty years ago, during the Battle of Marquee at the Michael’s Sword defense line, the Imperial and the Alliance had clashed. The then-commander of the Third Legion, Imperial Admiral Largo Paris, had faked his death and fled to the Alliance. Meng Zhenhua had been awakened then to decide how to handle Largo Paris.
At that time, the Hydra resistance against the Zerg in the Dionysus sector had broken out almost simultaneously with the Battle of Marquee. Even from the distant Alliance, Meng Zhenhua had heard of the young commander Heinrich Chu, who had turned the tide during the Seventh Legion’s crisis.
He had not expected that thirty years later, Heinrich Chu would again choose to abandon the Imperial. Seeing Meng Zhenhua fall into thought from Posito’s words, Conte added, “And the Spiritual Monarch’s heir, Lin Xu, has also arrived.”
“That’s right,” Posito said. “He’s Heinrich Chu’s mate. Although they ended their marriage, the current situation suggests they still remain mates.”
Conte looked at Posito displeased; his words made it seem like Lin Xu was just an added bonus accompanying Heinrich Chu, but Lin Xu had been the one who first contacted the Alliance. Without Lin Xu, she doubted Heinrich Chu would have defected so casually.
The tension between Conte and Posito thickened, exchanging silent barbs, unaware that Meng Zhenhua’s wrinkled hand trembled slightly. He parted his lips, struggling to regain his voice.
“Did you say… Lin Xu?”
The pronunciation of “Lin Xu” by the Imperial and Alliance languages couldn’t perfectly replicate the original Chinese. Meng Zhenhua pronounced the name clearly and precisely, wanting to confirm once again.
“Yes, Lin Xu,” Conte answered. The Alliance’s full name was the Exiled Alliance Fleet. For centuries, it had retained its military fleet structure. Even as the population continued to grow, the Alliance refused to settle on planets, instead building countless interstellar docks and artificial space cities throughout the void.
At the heart of Sector One in the Red Moon System lay the Central Dock, the hub of the Alliance’s economy and political decision-making.
The Central Dock resembled an enormous metal disk floating in the vacuum of space, twelve massive branches extending outward from its perimeter. Each branch split into smaller arms, creating docking points for starships. When at full capacity, the Central Dock could hold thousands of ships.
Countless vessels came and went, their engines glowing brightly, making them look like fireflies—or perhaps Zerg—circling a vast metallic flower. The starship guiding the Victoria led her to Dock 81, deep within the Central Dock’s core.
Once docked, the four passengers disembarked. Waiting below was Godric, who had arrived ahead of them. Two high-ranking officers stood behind him.
As Lin Xu and Heinrich approached, Godric noticed Lin Xu’s pallor and the welcoming smile on his face softened slightly.
“Dr. Lin, Mr. Chu,” Godric greeted them, “welcome to the Alliance. Did something happen along the way?”
“Something was left behind on Capital Star,” Lin Xu replied evenly. “I’ll need to find a chance to retrieve it later.”
Seeing that Lin Xu wasn’t willing to elaborate, Godric smoothly changed the subject. “Dr. Lin, Mr. Chu, allow me to introduce you. This is Secretary-General Ashelan of the Alliance and Largo Paris, Fleet General of the Old Shield Fleet.”
Heinrich’s eyes flickered with surprise at the sight of Largo Paris—a man who should have laid down his life for the Empire three decades ago. He remembered watching Largo’s pre-battle speech before the Battle of Marquee on StarNet. Back then, the alpha general had been a spirited man in his prime. Now, his hair was almost entirely white, yet his physique remained imposing, and his commanding presence had not faded in the slightest.
Ashelan, by contrast, was a mild-looking, scholarly man with a warm smile. He greeted Lin Xu and Heinrich with an easy handshake. When Largo shook hands with Heinrich, his sharp gaze held steady. “Mr. Chu,” he said, “I’ve long heard of your reputation.”
“I’ve often heard of General Paris’s illustrious victories as well,” Heinrich replied.
“Those are stories of the past,” Largo said, his face still formidable, though his smile was polite. “I’ve given up everything from those days. Even my old mecha has been entrusted to Dr. Lin. I’ve no right to boast about former glories.”
Lin Xu blinked. “I’m afraid I left Bard behind in Imperial territory, General Paris. I didn’t have time to bring her.”
“It’s fine,” Largo said. “Godric told me you liked that mecha and had the skill to pilot her. She’s yours now. Even if she isn’t by your side yet, there will come a day when you reclaim her from the Empire.”
His tone was calm, but in those few short sentences, his sheer authority was unmistakable. He was still the same indomitable general Heinrich remembered—only now, his unwavering determination was aimed squarely at the Empire.
Heinrich introduced the two people standing behind him. “This is Captain Honda Agana of the Victoria, and my adjutant, Arnold.”
After a brief exchange of courtesies, Secretary-General Ashelan outlined the next steps. “Dr. Lin, Mr. Chu, we’ve prepared accommodations for you inside the Central Dock. You may also remain aboard your ship if you prefer.
“However,” he continued, “after you’ve rested, Marshal Meng Zhenhua of the Alliance would like to meet with you both to discuss the next stage of plans. Staying in the guest quarters will make things more convenient.”
Meng Zhenhua? That name sounded so distinctly Old-Earth. Lin Xu couldn’t help but think of the chief surgeon who had performed their ability-transplant surgery back then. The man had already been older at the time, and his name had also been Meng Zhenhua. Lin Xu wondered how he had fared after they’d left…
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed closer and closer. A group of people rushed toward Dock 81. Ashelan turned back in surprise. Dock 81 was supposed to be sealed off for the Victoria’s arrival—who else could possibly be coming here?
Then he saw them: a cluster of officers surrounding an elderly man with snow-white hair, striding quickly toward the dock. Meng Zhenhua was walking so fast that he stumbled halfway, nearly falling if Conte hadn’t caught him in time.
The moment Meng spotted Lin Xu, his eyes lit up. He called out urgently, “Mr. Lin Xu!”
Lin Xu’s eyes snapped toward the voice. Their pupils contracted sharply, their expression blank for a heartbeat. “Dr. Meng?”
Meng Zhenhua finally reached them and seized Lin Xu’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Mr. Lin Xu—it really is you!”
His gaze fixed on Lin Xu’s face, which looked almost exactly the same as it had all those years ago. His eyes reddened, tears brimming as though words were caught in his throat. In the end, he said nothing, only patting Lin Xu’s hand over and over, as if to convince himself they were truly standing there.
The officers who had followed the marshal couldn’t hide their astonishment. They hadn’t expected Marshal Meng to know Lin Xu personally. Marshal Meng was from the Ark Fleet era. Everyone knew he had once seen the Spiritual Monarch, but now… he wasn’t calling out the Monarch’s title. He was calling Lin Xu by name!
“Dr. Meng, please, calm down,” Lin Xu said gently, seeing how close Meng Zhenhua was to tears.
“I’m trying… I’m trying,” Meng said, his voice trembling with emotion. “I just… I never thought I’d see you again.”
They spoke in Huaxian, and only Heinrich, who had glimpsed Lin Xu’s memories, could catch a few words.
Heinrich had seen Meng Zhenhua in those memories as well, but the man before him was far older now, his whole demeanor transformed. It took Heinrich a moment to reconcile this frail-looking marshal with the white-coated chief surgeon he had once seen holding scalpels and syringes in Lin Xu’s memories.
Meng Zhenhua led Lin Xu and Heinrich to his office. Originally, Ashelan was supposed to accompany him to greet them, but Meng wanted to speak with Lin Xu privately and left a curious Ashelan outside.
He had even intended to ask Heinrich to step out as well, but Lin Xu said it was fine for him to stay, so Meng allowed it. The marshal studied Heinrich—this former Imperial marshal, a dragon-blooded S-Class alpha.
Thick brows. Strong features. Not bad-looking. He matched Lin Xu well enough. A little cold, perhaps, but then again, Lin Xu wasn’t particularly talkative either. A mate who spoke less might even be a blessing. For Lin Xu, this man had defected from the Empire. His feelings were probably genuine. Meng Zhenhua gave an approving nod. Acceptable.
Heinrich, feeling the weight of the marshal’s scrutiny, thought he ought to say something but ultimately couldn’t find the words. Fortunately, Meng only nodded in satisfaction before turning back to Lin Xu.
“So… you didn’t die in the zombie outbreak back then?” Meng asked, his voice steadier now as he held a cup of hot tea between his hands.
“No,” Lin Xu replied. “I used a temporal ability and came three thousand years into the future.”
Meng let out a long sigh and leaned back, his gaze drifting upward as if lost in the past. “We all thought you were dead. There were so many bodies on that battlefield… no one could tell who was who. In the end, we burned everything together. After tallying the missing, all we could do was hold a memorial with empty robes.”
“And you?” Lin Xu asked, studying Meng’s face. He had been around forty when he’d become chief surgeon. Now, his hair was snow-white, his features deeply lined with age.
“I survived through cryosleep,” Meng said after a pause, “waking and sleeping in turns. Back then, three thousand years ago on Earth… the Northern Region wanted to establish the Ark Fleet. The higher-ups across all regions understood what that meant. Alfred Nobleson was secretly handing out tickets to top technical experts.
“The Eastern Region’s leadership didn’t trust them. They wanted spies inside the Ark Fleet, and I was one of them. Later, Alfred promoted me to a high-ranking position. I kept sending reports back to the East, but even after the Ark Fleet launched, the Eastern leadership never called me home.”
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