Going Home (Part 2)

"Really?!" "Is it true?!" "Really?" Inside the classified conference room at Azure Headquarters, a chorus of voices asked the exact same question, drowning out the scattered cries of "That's wonderful!" entirely. From those choruses of "Really?", one could hear unmistakable excitement and joy, alongside a measure of disbelief and stunned bewilderment—and, running beneath it all, doubt, hesitation, and inner turmoil. Compared to the pure, unadulterated excitement of the Refuser officer standing at the doorway, the core Azure leadership and Elder Council members inside clearly had much more to weigh. In a sense, this "good news" threw the comprehensive follow-up plan they had painstakingly settled upon back into disarray. Since the Martian fleet had shaken off pursuit by the Great Spike swarm, should they proceed according to the original plan and continue on to the Moon to rendezvous and join the search? Or should they be recalled first to refit their ships and resupply their equipment, while waiting for Major Qing, Pegmont, Wu Xu, Shen Yixiu, and the others to receive treatment and recover—only then deciding whether they should head to the Moon based on how things stood at that time? "In truth, though, we do not know enough about the source energy technology at the Great Spikes' disposal—for instance, whether they possess tracking methods beyond human comprehension. Don't forget that while they may appear crude and barbaric at times, they were capable of launching an expedition across the boundless cosmos with their entire race, migrating as a civilization toward Blue Star based on nothing more than a single coordinate. What I mean is, it's very hard for us to know whether the evacuation fleet has truly shaken off pursuit. After all, it sounds somewhat implausible. No—to be precise, highly implausible." "Yes. Furthermore, please take note: even General Yergna himself used words laden with obvious uncertainty in his report, such as 'seems' and 'in all likelihood.'" "Which shows they aren't confident in that assessment either." "Therefore, the first thing we can settle on is that we absolutely cannot allow the Martian evacuation fleet to head directly to the Moon to rendezvous right now." "Agreed." "Agreed." "Then what about recalling them? Let them return to Blue Star?!" "..." The fervent discussion fell dead silent once that question was posed. Because it truly was a dilemma—a brutally agonizing choice. Under their current suspicions and assessments, allowing the Martian fleet to return might very well lead the Great Spike swarm straight back to Blue Star, while also bringing them closer to the Moon. They even had to guard against the possibility that, beyond bringing cataclysm upon Blue Star, the aliens' arrival might allow them to glean information regarding the remains from within humanity itself—information that had now been publicized to the entire world. Moreover, Blue Star and human society, having just endured fierce internal upheaval and turmoil, likely could not withstand such a catastrophe in the short term. It was out of this exact concern that Azure high command's stance on the intelligence from Mars had been unanimous: conceal it. They dared not reveal anything about that tragic, devastating retreat to ordinary citizens, or even to the officers and enlisted soldiers. "Then... refuse them entry?" someone asked. Amidst the heavy silence and hesitation... "I believe all of your deliberations so far may have overlooked a crucial issue," the leader of the Refusers suddenly spoke up. "What issue?" The gathered Azure leadership looked over, puzzled and anxious. "If they have valid reasons—for example, if the wounded are in critical condition and they insist on returning... and by 'they,' I mean Stream Blades, or those from the City of Sin—if they are determined to return, is that something we can suppress and refuse through an order?" No one spoke. Because the answer was no. The fact that those people were willing to fight for humanity and their shared home of Blue Star, choosing to temporarily integrate into Azure's civilizational warfare apparatus, did not mean Azure held absolute jurisdiction or command over them. "Furthermore, is there anyone among us who could truly take responsibility afterward for refusing to let Major Qing, Pegmont, Wu Xu, and Shen Yixiu return for medical treatment?!" Still, no one spoke. Because once again, the answer was that they could not. The string of names the Refusers' leader had spoken was the very embodiment of all humanity's glorious victories over the past several years, carrying at least half of humanity's hope for the future. No one here could bear the weight of that responsibility. "Therefore, as a compromise: order the main body of the evacuation fleet to continue loitering in deep space to observe and pin down the Great Spike fleet, while granting them a measure of autonomy to act on their own judgment. I trust Second Lieutenant Wen Jifei will make the most rigorous and appropriate arrangements." As the Refuser leader finished speaking, the debates finally converged on an outcome. Rigidly worded reply orders were swiftly drafted amidst the staff's frantic activity, transmitted to the mobile Miracle Space Station, and then relayed onwards to the Martian evacuation fleet. Xin Yaoqiao, in her comatose, vegetative state, was still aboard the *Miracle*, traveling with it deeper into space. Because her life capsule could not be lightly moved, Zhe Qiuhong and her medical team had not brought Xin Yaoqiao back to Blue Star when they departed earlier. She lay there, quiet as though already dead, her eyes closed silently within the life capsule, letting the vast Milky Way churn and streak past outside the observation window of the care module above. ... Aboard the space mothership *Doomsday Great Wall*. Wen Jifei crouched down, leaning close against Han Qingyu's sickbed so he could catch the faint, raspy words coming from his frail breath. The others, including Jiang Longchi, stood quietly behind him, holding their breath and not daring to make a sound. In fact, as for Qingzi's current state, the superficial injuries on his body were barely visible anymore, leading one to momentarily believe his terrifying self-healing ability had once again taken effect. However, if one looked closely for just a moment, one would notice the pervasive weakness in his aura—an extreme depletion of his life force. "Actually, what was hurt worst this time is it... the Yanxiu. I wanted to save myself, but I couldn't save it." Han Qingyu opened his eyes, managed a few words, and then closed them again for a moment. Supported by only half a set of remains, the Yanxiu was too fragile. That fragility hadn't been obvious in the preceding string of battles, but once it came to the battle on Mars—pitted against Puta'er, a fully mature, peak-tier original Yanxiu—it had been completely and brutally exposed. With a disparity like that, even if Han Qingyu had been uninjured, he would not have possessed any real ability to resist. *So the key still lies in the remains...* Wen Jifei thought to himself. Before he could speak, Han Qingyu opened his eyes again, looked at him, and asked, "What happened after? Mars... afterwards... how did I get out? The fleet..." Wen Jifei's eyes wavered with inner conflict. "Afterwards..." Pacing his words neither too fast nor too slow, Wen Jifei recounted everything that had transpired as calmly as he could—from Han Qingyu falling unconscious, to Wu Xu and the others breaching the line to rescue him; to Cat Girl's sudden appearance; to the desperate, sacrificial charge of eighty thousand Azure veterans and the human fleet; and then to He Tangtang and Rusty Sister joining forces to hold the line, and Tangtang falling back onto the Martian battlefield... Throughout the entire telling, Wen Jifei tried desperately to rein in his emotions. He thought he had succeeded, but when he finally finished, silent tears had completely soaked his face. Han Qingyu listened. For the first half, he kept his eyes open; for the latter half, he kept them shut. And so he lay flat on his back in the bed. Aside from a slight shift of his resting arm and the tightening of his fists, he showed no other emotion. There were no angry outbursts, no visible agony of self-reproach, no resolute vows of vengeance... It was a quiet grief. Like the deepest ocean—when the wind is still, its churning currents remain unseen beneath the surface. "In truth, there's no need to blame yourselves so much," General Jiang Longchi spoke up from behind Wen Jifei. With a calm and embracing demeanor born of walking through decades of hardship, he offered comfort: "This is war, and the cruelest, longest war at that. It's impossible for us to lose nothing. We will lose much—perhaps even most of what we hold dear. Do you think Chen Buer and Xu Xiaohong walked this path with just the two of them the entire way? No. Back then, there were more than twenty of us. Every single one was the hope of humanity; none were much weaker than the rest... And today, apart from me, an old man who has gone senile, only the two of them are left still fighting." Han Qingyu slowly opened his eyes a fraction. Surprise, suspicion, and a glimmer of pleasant shock flickered in Wen Jifei's eyes as he slowly turned his head to look. "What... did you say?" Jiang Longchi seemed to have suddenly regained his wits, and Wen Jifei tested the waters cautiously, trying to be sure. "What what?" Jiang Longchi asked back loudly. "I was asking... General Jiang, what you just said..." "What what?" Jiang Longchi said. "Huh? What did you just call me? General Jiang! Who called me? Hey, why is my grandson hurt? Where's the doctor? Where'd the doctor go?!" Wen Jifei turned back in silence. He described the current situation of the evacuation fleet to Han Qingyu once more, concluding: "In my view, the direction and course of action for the entire fleet as a whole still require careful consideration and further observation. However, we're already in a position where one or two ships could depart ahead under the cover of the main force. I want you all to head back for treatment. In any case, given your current condition, none of you are fit to fight anymore. As things stand, we have two options. First, go to the Miracle Space Station and have Zhe Qiuhong bring her medical team there to wait. Second, return to Blue Star and head to Azure base, where there will certainly be more treatment options and resources available. What do you think, Qingzi?" Han Qingyu closed his eyes and pondered for a moment. Opening them again, weak and frail, he asked, "Can I go home first?" Wen Jifei was rendered speechless. In truth, what his words had really meant earlier was: *You can't fight anymore, Qingzi. Don't take part in whatever fighting comes next.* Yet Qingzi said he wanted to go home first. Going home was Qingzi's habit before heading into a battle from which he didn't expect to return alive—spending a few days with his parents, making them smile and keeping them happy for a little while. This meant he chose to continue... This tragic defeat on Mars had begun with his clash against Puta'er, and now, it was far from over.