Sir, do you want the pheromones? - Chapter 13

Jin Ran was rebellious by nature. “I don’t owe you any favors. I’d rather clean toilets.”

 

Pei Xingyu saw that Bu Yu had given Jin Ran a way out, but Jin Ran refused to take it, which made Pei Xingyu a bit angry. “If you’re unwilling, then get back to the ship right now. Go clean the toilets in Ziwei Yuan for three months!”

 

Jin Ran snorted, then raised his head and saluted Pei Xingyu. “Yes, Commander!”

 

Pei Xingyu could see the defiance in Jin Ran’s straight posture. Punishing him by making him clean toilets in front of so many people at the space station was humiliating for anyone.

 

Especially for someone as fiery as Jin Ran.

 

Mo Luo, however, didn’t think it was enough. Just cleaning toilets, light as it was, didn’t seem like real punishment. Besides, if Jin Ran went back to Ziwei Yuan, who knew if he would actually clean anything.

 

“Commander Pei,” Mo Luo started to speak.

 

But Pei Xingyu cut him off, his gaze icy as he asked, “Lieutenant Colonel Mo Luo, I’ve already punished my man. Now, how should we handle the fact that you hit him?”

 

Mo Luo’s face stiffened. “What do you mean?”

 

‘Lieutenant Colonel,’ Pei Xingyu paused, his voice cold. “You’re not qualified to speak. Get Lian Jingfeng here!”

 

Bu Yu, standing to the side, drew a sharp breath. “Commander Pei, your tone is way too bold. Never mind whether you can actually get the Minister of the Eleventh Corps to this desolate space station, even if you could, you don’t have the rank to make Lian Jingfeng come personally. The one you’re equal to is Commander Meipu, with all his passion and ideals.”

 

Mo Luo’s face paled when he heard Lian Jingfeng’s name. If the Minister really got involved, he’d be finished. Trying to keep his composure, he stammered, “It was just a few punches! Don’t take it so seriously! Since you’ve already punished Jin Ran, I’ll be the bigger man and let it go. Just keep your subordinates in check!”

 

Pei Xingyu asked, “So we’re settled?”

 

Mo Luo reluctantly nodded. “Fine, consider me unlucky.”

 

As the military equipment was loaded, Wen Yu received a message via the communication system from Ziwei Yuan, notifying Pei Xingyu. Pei took one last look at Mo Luo and turned to leave.

 

Bu Yu quickly followed. “I don’t think today’s incident was Jin Ran’s fault. The comment about cleaning toilets was just spoken in anger. Punishing him like this is really harsh.”

 

Pei Xingyu replied, “I’m not punishing Jin Ran to give Mo Luo a way out or because I’m afraid of the Eleventh Corps. He deserved punishment for throwing punches. Lian Jingfeng? He’s nothing. He doesn’t get to influence my decisions.”

 

Bu Yu thought, *Of course he doesn’t.*

 

The entire Galactic Federation has a special monitoring system set up just for you. If you display any abnormal behavior, they’ll immediately revoke your authority. There are also specific disciplinary measures tailored for you alone.

 

Your special treatment spans 3,000 light years. From Holmai to Sirius, no one else is treated like this.

 

“Commander,” Wen Yu greeted Pei Xingyu as he arrived, “What happened to Jin Ran? Did he get into a fight?”

 

Pei Xingyu didn’t respond directly. “Head back to Ziwei Yuan.”

 

Wen Yu nodded. “Understood.”

 

Bu Yu glanced around the cabin and found an empty ecological pod to lie in. He had no interest in braving the stress of a hyperspace jump. Sleeping through it was his plan.

 

Pei Xingyu stood next to Wen Yu, silently watching him operate the mecha, lost in thought. Wen Yu stole a glance at him, noting his sour expression.

 

Zhang Zhou hadn’t entered his ecological pod yet. In a low voice, he said, “Commander.”

 

“Hmm?” Pei Xingyu acknowledged.

 

“Jin Ran… got into the fight because they insulted our Ziwei Yuan and…”

 

Zhang Zhou hesitated, gauging Pei Xingyu’s expression, then nervously continued, “And… they called you a traitor to the Galactic Federation, said you abandoned your comrades and ran away. They even said… that your supreme command authority wasn’t officially given, that you… stole it. They called you a thief, among other nasty things. That’s why Jin Ran hit them. It’s not his fault. Please don’t punish him.”

 

Zhang Zhou squeezed his eyes shut and rushed through the rest of the explanation, then carefully peeked at Pei Xingyu. He was puzzled when he saw no change in Pei Xingyu’s expression.

 

“You… don’t believe me?”

 

Pei Xingyu didn’t even glance at the ecological pod where Jin Ran was resting. Calmly, he said, “If you can’t control your emotions and throw punches over some gossip, what will you do when all of Holmai slanders me? Fight them all?”

 

Zhang Zhou opened his mouth. That was true, but…

 

“Whether I stole the supreme command or not doesn’t matter. I have it now. As for Jin Ran’s punishment,” Pei Xingyu said, “it was his own request.”

 

Zhang Zhou bit his lip, wanting to say something, but Wen Yu shot him a look. “We’re approaching the jump point. Get to your ecological pod. Don’t involve yourself in this any further.”

 

Zhang Zhou nodded. “Alright.”

 

Once Zhang Zhou was inside the pod, Wen Yu said, “Commander, you didn’t punish Jin Ran just for the fight, did you?”

 

Pei Xingyu made a sound of agreement, his gaze fixed on the starlit flight path, clearly not intending to say more. As the ship neared the jump point, the mecha let out a sudden, long, piercing buzz, sharp and shrill.

 

Danger was approaching!

 

The external surveillance of the neural network didn’t show the enemy, but two flickering signal lights glowed in the dark, like monsters lurking in the void.

 

Wen Yu quickly tilted the ship, dodging a speeding sonic hydrogen bomb. With a chuckle, he said, “They think they can ambush Ziwei Yuan? Clearly, they haven’t heard who’s on this ship. They’re seeking death.”

 

Pei Xingyu thought, *These people probably know I’m on board, which is why they’ve come to kill me.*

 

Wen Yu frowned. “Commander, why would they attack here? We haven’t even passed the jump point yet, and there’s still the Holmai space station nearby. Aren’t these space pirates afraid of alerting the Galactic Federation?”

 

Space pirates? They may not be space pirates. Plenty of people want Pei Xingyu dead—far more than just the space pirates he’s hunted.

 

“Don’t get cocky. That sonic hydrogen bomb was likely just a distraction,” Pei Xingyu warned as he tapped the communicator. Amid the sharp alarms signaling the ship’s energy beam lock, Pei Xingyu raised his voice. “Zhou Peng!”

 

The next moment, the escort ship blared its own screeching alarm. Zhou Peng, the captain of the escort, shouted through the intercom, his voice distorted by static and forced volume, “Commander! Our anti-missile and jamming systems have been disabled!”

 

Suddenly, the hull was grazed by a flood of energy particle beams, causing it to shudder violently.

 

Pei Xingyu pressed down on the edge of the table to steady himself, while Wen Yu struggled to control the cockpit, maneuvering the mecha to dodge the next attack. The warship wouldn’t withstand another hit.

 

Energy particle beams have the capability for precise strikes and wide-area destruction. They’re not easy to wield; the particles must be accelerated to the speed of light to become weaponized, and once fired, they can melt and obliterate their targets.

 

The beams not only possess immense power but can also trigger secondary magnetic field effects, further damaging the target.

 

Since the enemy was using energy particle beams, they had no intention of leaving them alive!

 

Wen Yu broke out in a cold sweat, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

 

Their mecha was only equipped for transporting military supplies, more like a freighter. For any counterattack, they’d have to rely on the escort ship behind them. However, the anti-jamming system had been locked, and their tracking system was disrupted by the enemy’s energy interference.

 

The enemy used energy particle beams but remained unseen, relentlessly bombarding the mecha. Wen Yu had already raised the defense grid in the first moment, but if this continued, it would eventually fail.

 

Bu Yu and Zhang Zhou were jolted awake by the violent impact. They hurriedly opened the cabin door and asked, “Commander, what’s going on?!”

 

Pei Xingyu had no time to respond. The mecha was still violently shaking within the defense grid. Earlier, he hadn’t seen any alerts from the counter-tracking system, except for the warning when the sonic hydrogen bomb hit the mecha head-on—no other disturbances.

 

He turned his head and asked Wen Yu, “What system are you using?”

 

Wen Yu didn’t understand why he was asking, “The Star Federation’s system. We had to switch back to it earlier because of potential warp travel procedures.”

 

“Hall’s counter-tracking system is useless! Who told you to use it?! Switch back to the Ziwei Yuan system,” he said, then issued a command to the other mecha, “Zhou Peng, you switch too.”

 

That system was developed by Meng Ruqian herself. It wasn’t recognized by Hall but was extremely effective.

 

Zhou Peng’s voice came through the communicator, mixed with static, “But if we switch now, even one second of shutting down the system could get us shot down, and by then—”

 

Pei Xingyu grabbed the communicator and cut him off sharply, “Switch!”

 

At his command, the communicator fell silent. The one-second system switch caused the mental web to lose functionality, and Wen Yu felt his heart leap into his throat. If they were hit during this moment, it would be over!

 

The communication system lit up again. The counter-tracking system’s dashboard now displayed a dense array of energy particle weapons, like a swarm of meteors with tails hurtling toward them.

 

Wen Yu’s hands were shaking, but he steeled himself and prepared to act. Just then, a voice suddenly interjected, “Hey, maybe don’t use the phase pulse cannon now, switch to the ion cannon.”

 

Wen Yu turned and saw Jin Ran had somehow appeared, leaning casually against the cabin door with his arms crossed, looking as unreliable as ever. He glanced at Pei Xingyu, who nodded. “Yeah.”

 

Although the ion cannon couldn’t recover energy for feedback like the phase pulse cannon, they no longer had the luxury of time to wait for energy recovery.

 

The ion cannon fired silently, colliding with the incoming missiles. An enormous explosion followed without a sound, the blinding flash feeling as though it had detonated right in front of them. Wen Yu’s chest was so tight from the tension that it hurt.

 

Meanwhile, the escort ship, battered from the bombardment, had finally adjusted its systems. Its thrusters flickered with defiant light as a barrage of missiles surged toward the attackers in retaliation.

 

Wen Yu hadn’t even exhaled when the mental web monitor revealed the enemy’s hull. It wasn’t even in the same class as their light warship—a medium-class mecha barreling toward them like a tsunami, threatening to crush everything in its path.

 

The ship’s alarm screeched, seemingly tearing through space, with at least dozens of missiles locking onto the light warship. The only hope now was if they could fire a hundred ion cannons at once or shrink the ship by a factor of ten thousand to dodge, but neither was possible.

 

Wen Yu’s mind echoed with two words: It’s over.

 

Pei Xingyu turned and said, “Jin Ran.”

 

“What?”

 

“In a moment, I’ll find an opportunity to link up with the escort ship. I’ll go there to command the defense. You take Commander Bu Yu and find a chance to retreat to Ziwei Yuan amidst the chaos,” Pei Xingyu looked into his eyes and paused, then asked, “I can trust you, right?”

 

Jin Ran hesitated for a second before looking up, “You take him back yourself.”

 

Pei Xingyu said, “This is a military order. Take Bu Yu back to Ziwei Yuan and ensure his safety!”

 

“Commander, you can’t stay behind!” Zhang Zhou exclaimed.

 

Jin Ran, however, showed little reaction.

 

Pei Xingyu wouldn’t have left Ziwei Yuan just for some military supplies. He must have come to the transfer station to retrieve Bu Yu. Now, in this situation, he wanted Jin Ran to escort Bu Yu back, which meant this person carried something of great importance to Pei Xingyu.

 

“Take Bu Yu. He can decrypt—” Pei Xingyu’s words were cut off by Zhou Peng’s shout over the communicator, “Commander, the ships are linked! Please proceed quickly!”

 

Pei Xingyu hesitated for a second, then said, “Jin Ran, Bu Yu’s safety is crucial. If you bring him back to Ziwei Yuan, I’ll grant you anything you—”

 

“For him… sure.” Jin Ran glanced at the pale and nauseated Bu Yu, then looked away. “If he’s that important to you, take him back yourself.”

 

Pei Xingyu hesitated. Bu Yu was the best candidate to crack the encrypted chip, and the ancient mechas of the Eleventh Legion depended on him, as did Yan Yan.

 

After a moment.

 

“A few medium-class mechas are nothing. The only chance of survival is if I stay behind,” Pei Xingyu paused, then added, “If something happens… protect Bu Yu and… the ‘Tianji’.”

 

Jin Ran pulled on his protective suit and snapped it into place, his gloved hand grabbing the helmet. He walked to the cabin door, scanned his iris, and as the door opened, an immense pressure rushed into the space cabin.

 

“Let’s go.”

 

Jin Ran waved his hand, then leaped out. The white protective suit looked like a fragile butterfly in the pitch-black sky, ready to fall into the abyss at the slightest mistake.

 

“Jin Ran!”