May 17, 482 in the Imperial Calendar

An hour ago, I was sweating and crawling out of the driver's seat of Gilgouré. Pen fun and pavilion www.biquge.info

This war is finally over again.

It was a skirmish, and a reconnaissance ship spotted signs of small groups of Marines of the rebels on the surface of the planet Blancheranga. According to computer analysis, the rebels are probably trying to set up a monitoring base on this unfortunate planet again. They could never have learned – and further additional reconnaissance reports soon proved – that the rebel engineering units were constructing semi-permanent facilities like worker ants.

In any case, it is intolerable for us to openly carry out such an arrogant provocation under the noses of the Iserlohn fortress. After a brief consultation between the commander of the fortress, Admiral Thomas von Schuttchhajan, and the commander of the garrison fleet, Admiral Hans Dietrich von Jackett, in the corner of the senior officer's salon, who temporarily served as a meeting room, agreed to take immediate measures of force to suppress it. The scale of emergency mobilization was one hundred warships, one hundred cruisers, three hundred destroyers, fifty aircraft carriers and fifty landing ships.

I went into battle as the commander of the 200 single-seater carrier-based aircraft on the aircraft carrier "Trier".

Admiral Jackt seemed to have little interest in commanding a detachment of six hundred ships. Therefore, instead of boarding the flagship and going out together, he chose faster-than-light communication as a tool for issuing orders. Although it may be interfered with by the rebels in the heat of battle, a battle of this magnitude will not last long. And there are no changes to the parameters that need to be considered on an ad hoc basis.

As he expected. There were only two hours of fighting.

When our troops arrived at Blancheranga, the rebels rushed to meet the battle with a small covering fleet, and on the other hand hysterically appealed to their headquarters for help. Ridiculous dialogue fills the communication circuit.

The covering fleet of the rebels probably consisted of more than three hundred light cruisers. In an instant, we were surrounded. At the same time, two companies of panzergrenadiers on the landing ship formation began to force their landing, destroying everything that could be seen with powerful fire. The battle on the planet ended in about forty minutes, and with the addition of half an hour of landing and half an hour of evacuation, the Marine Corps spent a total of a hundred minutes.

Ten minutes later, the enemy's covering fleet was routed.

I shot down five Spartanians and once again established the honorary title of "King of Crashes".

Before the rebel reinforcements arrived, we had already set off for home.

So, half an hour ago, I received a promotion order.

May 19, 482 in the imperial calendar

It's ridiculous, I just realized how special this promotion is.

Maybe I'm leaving the driver's seat of my beloved Wanghoure forever. As soon as I thought of this, I, who didn't like to drink, couldn't help but rush to the senior officers' restaurant and bar.

Major Oberstein was a nasty guy, but he was telling the truth: the captain was an officer of the rank of colonel, and it was impossible to have two colonels in the personnel configuration of a battleship. I never realized it! Probably there was never a precedent for a twenty-eight-year-old pilot to be promoted to this rank? Of course, I could not have been the commander of a battleship, at least not yet—I had never had any training in it. How will the Ministry of Military Affairs handle this special personnel arrangement?

Disappointment and anticipation tormented me. It is indeed a pity to say goodbye to the familiar Wang Ergure...... But when I thought about it, I got excited again—in the last letter my wife said she was pregnant, and oh my God, I remembered the vacation last December, what a sweet season it was! How nice it would be to be able to go back to Odin with his beautiful wife until the birth of my son! What a rare fortune for a professional soldier!

Son, I'm going to have a son! What should I name him?

The moment I went to bed, I made a decision – Gustave Ishak Camp – a good name!

June 23, 482 in the Imperial Calendar

Finally walked out of the spaceport of the imperial capital.

The special car of the Ministry of Military Affairs waited quietly at the exit, the afterglow of the setting sun shining on the shell painted black and bright silver. I reluctantly suppressed my joy and anticipation and told my name, and the orderly opened the door for me. The ground car carried me smoothly to the central hub of cosmic power.

Two elegant teenagers came up to me and immediately attracted all my attention. One of them had sun-dazzling blonde hair, while the other had blood-like fiery red hair. The blonde boy's facial features are as delicate as the work of a famous master, and the red-haired boy is definitely a handsome person above the level. If it weren't for the second lieutenant and reserve officer badges on my shoulders, I would have thought they were still students of the kindergarten. Probably the children of powerful nobles...... What struck me even more unbelievable was what the orderly next to me whispered to me - these two teenagers were about to serve on the planet Blancheranga, where I had just fought and had been turned into an imperial base only a month earlier......

The reception of Marshal Yan Luopek, the secretary of military affairs, ended in an instant.

"Colonel Kemp, you will be on your way to Fraser in January, as the second resident attaché. After a brief briefing at the entrance, the marshal slowly lifted his gray-haired head from a table of papers, his antique monocle impressive.

I respectfully saluted and withdrew.

June 25, 482 in the imperial calendar

Today is the third day back to Odin.

The rare good mood is all disturbed, hell!

What a luxurious luxury it is to have a month of quiet and warm rest after a long battle of iron and blood! I got up early in the morning, took a chaise longe, sat down in the shade of the trees in the garden, and listened to the crisp and melodious sound of birds. The sweet dark beer of the imperial capital moistened my throat, which had grown thirsty over and over the years of my space career, something I could not have dared to hope for in the driver's seat of Gilguré in a life-and-death duel time and time again. One after another, the single battleships were shot and exploded rapidly, forming one brilliant spark after another in the long night of the universe, and then immediately dimmed, sliding into the abyss where there was no ray of light for eternity......

The familiar faces of my comrades-in-arms came to my mind. With a gentle tilt of hand, a glass of black liquid with rich white foam gushed out of the cup and quickly melted into the ground beneath his feet. I prayed softly, closed my eyes reverently, and eagerly felt the warmth of the sun shining on my body, a cry of life!

A low exclamation from my wife came from the bedroom, interrupting my meditation, and I returned to reality. What happened? I ran to her without thinking.

"How can we have this thing in our house?" said the wife, holding an old cardboard box in surprise. The dusty lid fell silently to the ground. It was a relic of my mother's death, and I never opened it.

A yellowed photograph is placed at the top of the cardboard box. The photograph shows a man in his mid-thirties. Underneath lay a couple of worn-out diaries and a pile of ideological rubbish — books on democracy. As soon as these things became known, officials from the Bureau for the Maintenance of Social Order of the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs would come to visit them. These are the most dangerous bombs! No wonder my wife was so surprised—but how could they be in my mother's relics? What secrets were hidden in these diaries?

Mother was a good woman who had no quarrel with the world, a traditional imperial woman, who went through her life plainly and quietly. Aside from cooking and cooking, she never asked anything else, let alone involved in political discussions or research......

I closed the last diary, and I had a rough idea of what I had in my mind — I had an uncle, who was the man in the photo, who seemed to be a forgotten being, at least I had never heard any of my relatives talk about him. Unfortunately, I don't know what his name is, and all the names of people and places in the diary have been deliberately withheld. Under special circumstances, he came into contact with books and magazines and manuscripts that were absolutely discreetly circulated underground. Through these avenues, he believes that what he has learned about life on the planet where the rebels are entrenched has an incomparably powerful appeal. After a long period of private preparation, thirty years ago, he went into exile in a world outside the Empire's sphere of influence.

What does all this have to do with me? a relative who "died" before I was born, a relative I didn't know and never came into contact with...... I thought indignantly, what right does he have to disturb my happy vacation and my state of mind, and even to lurk such a deadly hidden danger in my room!

I counted the contents of the boxes and threw them into the fireplace one by one. The hideous, curly tongue of fire engulfed them mercilessly.

My wife, in my arms, looked at me in a panic and clutched my sleeve tightly.

Don't be afraid, my dear, it's all long gone, forget about them. Just as—

They never existed.

July 20, 482 in the imperial calendar

Finally, the vacation was coming to an end, and I reluctantly looked at my wife's high bulging belly. The child will not be born until two months, and I can't wait for you, sorry, son.

I began to pack my bags, and my wife hobbled over to help, but I lovingly stopped her and gently lifted her onto the chaise longue.

"Don't worry about me, my dear. In fact, I'm not going to be on the juergoure anymore. They don't allow carrier-based pilots to have a higher rank than the captain of a battleship, it's really annoying, it seems that my number of downs will stay at the number of five hundred and fifty-seven forever. I jokingly said.

"Thank you Odin!" the wife smiled, "I'm glad that this result. ”

"Seriously, the Colonel is a challenge for me!" I nodded, "my colleagues have praised my air combat skills, and these skills are the only reliance on my safe passage through this difficult and tumultuous military career. However, it is unlikely that there will be any more opportunities to get promoted because of how many Spartanians you have played...... Maybe I'll have to go around this class for the rest of my life. Unless it's for the fleet commanders to take a fancy to them and become a member of the staff...... But do the high-ranking generals of the great aristocracy look up to me as a civilian colonel? and I have basically nothing but air combat. ”

My wife slowly took my hand, her palm warm and delicate, "Carl, your salary is enough to feed our family. You, me, and our son. She gazed happily at her lower abdomen, "Carl, I don't care how distinguished you are, how many martial arts and battle medals you have established. Carl, that doesn't matter in our world. As long as I know that you can live safely in any corner of the universe, this is my greatest wish. What does it matter if you are a colonel for the rest of your life. ”

For a moment, hot tears rolled in my eyes, and everything in front of me blurred and trembled......

August 23, 482 in the imperial calendar

It's unbelievable that I've had the experience of standing on two feet outside the territory of the Empire!

I looked at the ground beneath my feet in confusion, it was a very ordinary color, there was nothing special about it, it was not at all like in a dream. I pedal it childishly hard, hard and bouncy, full of realism and presence.

I was greeted by an elegant officer, from a traditional aristocratic background, with almost every slender crimson vein visible on his fair skin. He had ear-length dark hair, and his silver and black uniform outlined a slender and healthy body, giving people an indescribable feeling, and if it weren't for this uniform that marked the honor and power of the Empire, most people might have thought he was an artist, right?

"Is Qing Colonel Kemp?" this is an imperial Chinese language that is more standard and fluent than many people in the empire itself.

I've never been called "Qing" before, and I frowned in confusion, not realizing for a moment that it was referring to me.

The other party smiled and saluted: "Lieutenant Colonel Mecklinger, the adjutant of the secretary." Welcome to Fraser!"

August 25, 482 in the imperial calendar

Fraser is indeed a great place to be. Enjoying the unique peace of the Empire vs. Allied Wars that lasted for hundreds of years across the galaxy is truly an enviable life. It's a feeling you'll never understand if you haven't been to this magical land in person. But for us veterans of war, this superficial exuberance is as illusory as a bubble, or rather, as fragile as a castle on the beach, ready to be swept away mercilessly by the waves at any moment. The ridiculous Fraser people are ignorant of it, and they are even more self-deprecating for this superficial developed economy, who does not know that the empire or the alliance can at any time rely on the background of strong force to strip them of their last dignity.

I sat quietly in my office on the third floor, writing down my feelings at the moment. The day before yesterday, under the guidance of Lieutenant Colonel Mecklinger, I made a cursory tour of the heart of the mysterious country of Fraser. Up to this point I couldn't believe that I had passed by the Freedom League embassy in Fraser in a suit and had been wandering curiously for a while. You know, just through a gate, inside is the territory of the Alliance that has fought with us for centuries!

Lieutenant Colonel Mecklinger took me to Fraser's oldest bar, the Red Turtledove. It is said that many famous people in history have visited this old house. We sat at a table on the edge of the corner and ordered a simple stout with bread and ham. Mecklinger smiled and said he was going to show me a hand, so he approached the piano near the bar and graciously motioned for the luthier to get out of the way. After that, he sat down calmly, tilted his head sideways for a moment, and began to play gently. Suddenly, a fierce and familiar melody rushed from his fingers. In an instant, I was almost back in the cosmic space of the Kinge Iron Horse - it was the March of the Warriors of King Gullei!! in the march that had accompanied me for several years, I suddenly felt as if I had stepped into the driver's seat for the first time and entered the world of eternal darkness, and I saw the first Spartanium I shot down transformed into a beautiful firework...... Oh, my God...... For the first time, I knew that there was such a musical genius among the Imperial officers, and if Mecklinger had given a recital at Odin, it would have been a full house!

At the end of the song, the lieutenant colonel casually played a few popular tunes in Fraser. He has fully integrated into the world of art, his eyes closed leisurely, his slender ten fingers expertly tapping on the black and white keys, and his body trembling gently with the rhythm. But he didn't know that the eyes of several beautiful bar girls staring at him were almost dripping...... Hehe, I smiled and raised my glass and drank it all. Turning his eyes to look at the other customers in the bar. From time to time, everyone glanced at us two military attachés in civilian clothes of the Imperial Army, and only one of us, probably drunk, was pouring himself a drink completely indifferent......

I looked at him closely, dressed in shabby and ragged clothes, but with a natural fair complexion, and though he had been weathered, I could still faintly see the color of the capillaries on his face and wrists, etc., - if I had met him in the Empire, I would have thought that he must have been a descendant of a down-and-out nobleman - and his natural noble blood was hard to hide!

The lieutenant colonel interrupted my thoughts: "Kempqing, if you don't mind, we should go, and there will be a special reception banquet for Your Excellency later." ”

I shook my head and followed the lieutenant colonel away from the red turtledove.

The people of Fraser were so welcoming, at least on the surface, that I got drunk. The next day I had another busy day, and it was not easy to transform an unfamiliar environment into a habitual and comfortable place, and I was exhausted. That's why it was only now that I had time to write about what happened two days ago.

September 3, 482 in the imperial calendar

Everything is getting on track.

Fraser's artificial rain trickles outside the window. I sat leisurely on the single sofa with a couple of books on my lap. Not so long ago, they were lying in the window of a nearby book supermarket.

It was a real surprise that I found out the most out of my stay at Fraser and it was unbelievable. It is unscrupulous to buy and read such things as "The Great Enemy of Empire and Beauty - Marshal Lin Pa Euro", "The Nagging Marshal Yusf Topolo and His Cosmic Calendar 640 Years", "The Unique Admiral Group in History - The Elite 730 Party...... And so on rebel publications!

As I stood dumbfounded among the countless bookshelves and bookcases, suddenly a hand reached out and gently held a book in front of me. It was a copy of The Henison Way, written by Gunn Kim Hall. I felt like I had been stung by a poisonous snake and slammed away. Then stared warily at each other. A very kind and kind face, with a hint of understanding and almost encouragement in his eyes. Almost immediately, I remembered the old man in the red turtledove that had impressed me. Yes, it's him.

"I beg your pardon, I'm a soldier. I'm only interested in books within my career field. I only like to read military works. I added wryly, "I don't have any curiosity about politics and ideology." That's none of my business, is it?"

The old man smiled, revealing a hint of disappointment and sadness. He nodded slowly, then slowly turned around and quietly walked away. I was left with only a back that was fading away. It's strange that this old man always gives me the urge to get close.

I rang the bell and called a young orderly and told him to bring him a cup of coffee. Gather your thoughts and keep keeping my diary. The coffee is bitter, but it has a very sweet feeling when it enters the throat.

I have bitterly wounded the rebels, who have provoked centuries of war, who are the enemies of peace. But, very ironically, if they didn't exist, I would most likely be out of work...... Really, do I have to thank them? No, of course not! But I must admit that if it were not for this war, a young man of declining aristocratic background would not have been able to carry the epaulette of a colonel under any circumstances......

On the other hand, I also understand that the rebels are far more successful in military theory than we are. Yes, most of our troops fought with absolute loyalty to His Majesty, indomitable spirit, courage to face death, excellent equipment, adequate supplies, and so on. Few of the high-ranking admirals from the great aristocracy have systematically and completely studied military theory, which has long been a tacit fact in our army. Although the rebels are cunning and despicable, they have professional military talents, so they can maintain a situation of attacking and defending each other for hundreds of years under the double disadvantage of economic and military strength.

It is quite possible that it will not be long before I will become a commander of a detachment. This beautiful vision made me curious to learn and explore. It's time for me to take the initiative to learn a little bit about this field, and yes, it's time. It's impossible to predict what the next moment will bring, but those who are prepared will always have a better chance of success than those who don't – this is a saying that has been passed down from generation to generation in my family.

Well, it's very rare and meaningful to be able to read and draw on the theory and military history of the rebels! I would like to thank the great god Odin for sending me to the only neutral galaxy in the galaxy. It's definitely a lucky opportunity, and that's my mission. I will teach them a good lesson with the military doctrine of the rebels.

I stopped my pen and opened the first book on my lap......

August 26, 482 in the imperial calendar

At nine o'clock this morning, two uninvited guests from Odin walked into my office.

Their innate ruthlessness and acquired brutality can be seen at a glance, and there is no doubt that they are qualified members of the Imperial Social Order Maintenance Bureau. I bowed my head in disgust and continued to consult the file, coldly asking them what they meant.

A balding Scar-Eye handed me a piece of paper asking me to do everything I could to help those who held the certificate, with the seal of the Imperial Commander's Headquarters at the end!

I barely managed to suppress the intense unhappiness. "What can I do for you?"

"We need some weapons for our special order, and they cannot pass the Fraser customs inspection, so we hope that His Excellency Camp will be able to provide us with some embassy arms. ”

"That would undermine the peace and friendship between our empire and Fraser. I shrugged.

"Yes. But peace or war between the Empire and Fraser is not for His Excellency the Colonel or the two of us to decide. We're all order-doers, not decision-makers, aren't we?" Scar-Eye replied expressionlessly.

"Very well, I agree. So, what about the exact number? Know that the embassy has a limited number of weapons......"

"Hahahahahaha......ha......ha His companion, a rosacea, added, "All you need is a small laser gun or something, rest assured, Lord Kamp." “

I pulled open the drawer, pulled out my talisman pistol and threw it on the table.

August 27, 482 in the imperial calendar

It happened so suddenly. Now my mind is in turmoil.

This will be the last entry in this journal, and when it is finished, I will destroy it, and let it disappear with this very unpleasant memory!

It all started at four o'clock this afternoon......

When I was off work, I wandered around the official residence in a leisurely mood. Just as he was passing by the red pandove, he suddenly saw the crowd inside swarming out like a bunch of injured sparrows. While shouting about the local Fraser that I didn't understand.

"What's wrong?" I asked a police officer who was hurrying by.

"A man was killed, an old man. He rushed in without looking back.

A few minutes later, two paramedics pulled out a stretcher from the bar, and it turned out to be the old man who had been in this bar and the bookstore! He was not dead, blood gushing out of his chest, staining the white sheets red. At the moment when I passed by, the old man recognized me, and his already dilated gaze regathered. He grabbed my hand so hard that he struggled with a muffled voiced voice in his throat: "Wait, wait......"

"What's the matter, isn't it good to talk about it when you get to the hospital?" said the medic only anxiously.

"No—" The old man's eyes were stubborn.

A doctor approached and lifted the sheet to briefly examine his injuries. "Unfortunately, he was shot three times, two of them in the lungs and ......," he nodded, signaling to stop the stretcher.

The old man struggled to reach out his trembling hand and grope for something in his pocket. Confused, I pulled it out for him. It was a small notebook that was extremely thin, stained with blood. 〕

"Grizzly, read it well!" his gaze was one of the deepest of desires, but his tone was full of commands and instructions.

Nothing could be more shocking!—Only when I was a child would my elders and relatives call me that!—Who is this old man?—I nodded in bewilderment.

He smiled with relief, his eyes drifting again, his head tilted to the side, and he lost consciousness.

Two minutes later, he lost his breath.

I hurried back to the house as fast as I could, locked myself in my room, and began to flip through the pamphlet in a haphazard manner......

Here's the answer to everything.

He's my uncle who disappeared a long time ago. Born into the high nobility of the Empire, he leaned towards the liberal and democratic ideas that spread underground, and did not hesitate to give up everything and went into exile in the system occupied by the rebels.

Harboring a longing for a democratic system, after his successful exile, he unfortunately gradually discovered the various shortcomings of that system—bureaucracy, redundancy, and, most importantly, the birth of a large number of politicians, who did not hesitate to wage war in order to satisfy the vanity and selfish desires of the leaders......

He sadly realized that "all the defects of the system come from the ugliness of human nature." So, he went into exile again and settled in Fraser, where he spent his days drinking to drown his sorrows...... "Whether it is an empire or an alliance, it is like two mirrors with different angles, but they all reflect the common dark side of mankind, and all this is not the fault of the system itself!"

I couldn't fully read my uncle's notes. Too much text mixed with the smell of alcohol, completely incoherent sentences and inverted grammar can prove it.

I don't want to know about it at all, though......

It's all the fault of the damned rebels!

I swear I'm going to kill all those vile and cowardly rats!

The stove was blazing before my eyes. I'm about to close the journal and throw it in with the bloodstained notebook.

- Let this diary, which is destined to disappear, be buried deep in my heart. Until I die, it will never be known.

I dropped the heavy pen in my hand......

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