Chapter 70 "Documents" And Diaries

Calvin continued to move forward while listening to the file in his headphones.

After listening to the first part of the warning, he thought about it and clicked on the first part after the preface. I continued to listen.

The program in the headset converted the file into speech, and read a diary-like text in a mechanical, emotionless voice:

"Document 1...

Time: Imperial Calendar 0704.650.M39

The tragic attack and defense of Mandela's No. 5 Orbital Fortress seemed like it happened yesterday, and the details of this battle are still vivid in my mind.

The hoarse roars of my comrades as they advanced towards the center still seemed to echo in my ears. I still clearly remember the last moment of dragging the old regiment leader with a broken leg and holding a cluster grenade towards the heavy logging gun at the defense node.

"Live! You have to fucking live! You owe us all! You have to live enough for us!" My eyes passed behind the overwhelming red tracer bullets on the opposite side. This is when I saw the old regiment leader firing the gun. The last words before the bomb.

His black and red face smeared with blood and gun smoke is like imprinted on my mind, and I can't forget it for a moment.

When I woke up, the smell of blood in my mouth and the smell of fragrance from the clean bedding in the cabin made me a little confused, but when I woke up, the clock in the cabin where I lived told me that 15 years had passed.

The half-bottle of promethium starch refined wine left on the table is a good thing. The scars on my body that have begun to ache tell me that the humidity regulator of the habitation module is definitely broken again. Well, it’s time to drink again.

I spent a total of 5 empty laser gun batteries for it, and this is my last inventory.

What to do when you finish drinking? I never thought that my comrades were just as poor anyway, and had exchanged almost everything they could exchange for.

Gun? The gun is long gone.

Anyway, stragglers like us, who don’t even have an organization, can’t fight, and we can only spend our days hanging out on navy ships.

In the eyes of the nobles at the Ministry of Military Affairs, we were probably the same as the exhaust gas produced by indigestion after accidentally eating expired cheese the night before. Except that it smelled a little bit, it was probably as transparent as the air.

When I was still thinking about whether I should eat tonight, or if I didn't eat tonight, how many meals of the starch bars I could receive could be exchanged for another bottle of wine.

A stooped and dirty figure rushed in. Old Bailey, head of the ship's maintenance team responsible for damage control repairs inside the ship.

Speaking of which, his other small part-time status may be more respectable on this ship with more than 200,000 permanent personnel. He is the owner of one of the few underground bars on the ship.

Well, this old guy is still my creditor, Angele's creditor, or in other words, the creditor of all the star soldiers who are inconvenient.

This old guy is so stupid. He treats us astral bosses who have no tomorrow today. On the one hand, he is as calculating as Grandet in Gutera's novels, but on the other hand, he dares to let us go into debt!

Your Majesty, the Emperor dares to put us in debt for a group of coppers like us who can't even scrape together a single gold coin! Hahahahahaha...ahem...

This question bothered me for a long time. Until one time, I didn’t know whether it was because I drank too much or was injured. I vaguely remembered that after I asked him this question, he answered like this:

"As long as you have enough money, I don't plan to leave the ship to live in retirement anyway. As for you guys, it's good to have a debt on your back. At least you have one more reason to live, right? Whenever you feel like you can't live anymore, , isn’t it nice to think that there is still Old Bailey on board, still waiting bitterly for you to come back?”

Of course, if I asked him again after I sobered up, he would definitely deny this.

It looked like Father Bailey had been running for a long time. He was panting heavily and shouted to me:

"Hailan! Hailan! Your trouble has happened! Ah! Your good thing has arrived!" The old man's footsteps were very agile. Just by listening to his tone, it seems that his usual business is not only reporting good news, but also reporting troubles. It is also indispensable...

"What the hell...what? Old man, can't you think about it before speaking? Is it a disaster or a happy event? Forget it, there is no happy event for me. Let me see if I have any valuable things. Give them to me. You, please arrange a place for me to hide..."

Having just sobered up, I didn’t have much thought, so I just packed my things in a panic.

There's nothing I can't lose except my "guy stuff." For now, I can only hope that I won't do anything serious, and I can come back after a while to avoid the limelight.

By the way, what on earth did I commit? Forget it, I have been drunk so many times, how can I know which noble person I bumped into...

Father Bailey finally breathed "It's not a disaster! It's not a disaster! It's a good thing! The resettlement order for your regiment has come down! Get dressed quickly and follow me! The adults from the Military Command Department are waiting for you in the restaurant! "

In this way, I was taken all the way to the public restaurant. In front of a group of comrades who had arrived earlier, I met the young and heroic adult.

Presumably because of his subsequent status, this gentleman did not become impatient because of waiting. He even said to me kindly:

"Hey, is this the hero of Mandela's bloody battle? His name is... his name is Hailan, right? I have admired him for a long time..."

After seeing the officer's iconic black and blue uniform, I recalled memories of meeting them in the past.

You can hardly see these people on the battlefield. After all, you can't expect these people who are born with noble family background and can work in the direct department of the Military Command after joining the army to fight with us peasants.

So when you occasionally see them on the battlefield, in addition to the small probability of promotion and commendation notice, the most likely thing is that they are ordered to enforce battlefield discipline for the troops that failed in the battle...

I shivered subconsciously and answered this big man with the most cautious tone in my life:

"We only participated in the attack and defense of Fortress No. 5 in the outer orbit. It was the credit of the Emperor's angels to recapture the Forge World. Um... what's it called? Yes, the Red Scorpion. This is their credit, and it has nothing to do with us!"

The big man in black and blue uniform was not angry because of my rebuttal. He even patted my shirt kindly. Well, it would be better if he didn't wipe his military pants twice when he took back his hand.

In short, this great man said to me with a smile on his face: "The glory of the Emperor belongs to the Emperor, and the glory of the mortals belongs to the mortals! The glory of you will be determined!"

His whole spirit seemed to be proud of the content of his words, but from his condescending smile, I wondered whether his pride was based on the first half or the second half...

After adjusting his face, he took out a document from the briefcase in the hands of his entourage, opened it, looked at us, and then lowered his head and read aloud:

"This is an order! The 52nd Branden Regiment of the Imperial Defense Force, which has achieved great results in the Battle of Mandela, However, he is a role model for his comrades. Hereby commend: Colonel Hailan, former regiment commander, is promoted to Major General of the Imperial Defense Force... Paul Lucas, Senior Marshal of the Imperial Defense Force Taiping Star Region Military Affairs Department. "

After reading this, the gentleman took out another document, opened it and continued to read:

"Appointment letter from the Imperial Ministry of the Interior, the former Branden Heavy Siege 52nd Regiment made outstanding contributions in the battle of Mandela, and suffered many casualties. However, the emperor has mercy on this matter and understands this situation. Rest the dead souls in the upper feast, and comfort the disabled army. Hereby appoint: Major General Hailan of the Imperial Defense Force as the governor of the Taiping Star Region, Wayne Star Region, SATA District Administration. I hope you will make another effort here and serve the country loyally, then the country will not let you down. ..."

I don't know when the appointment letter was finished. The gentleman in the military command department seemed to be busy with official business and didn't care about my impoliteness.

He stuffed these two paper documents representing the Empire's final attitude towards our regiment and the attached pass documents into my hands and left.

And I was still in a daze. It's been 15 years. Has the resettlement I've been waiting for 15 years finally come? After the war, no one paid attention to us. We could only shamelessly mix in the Star Navy battle barge that brought us to the battlefield. Is this the end of our 15-year wandering life?

I don't know how to face these two belated documents. Just these two pieces of paper? More than 6,500 people in the regiment died, 6,344 people, and only 156 people were left, just for these two pieces of paper?

I don't understand, but it seems that no one cares whether I understand or not...

Imperial calendar 0705650.M39,

To us who are still wandering but have been resettled.

Hailan. "