Starting with God's perspective, how to lose an interstellar war?

"Judging from this structure, it looks like it was used to transport ore or ice meteorites?"

But the interface standard is a bit strange...

"Whatever, if they tell me to add fuel, I'll add fuel; if they tell me to add compressed air, I'll add air."

The older foreman was checking the pressure gauge.

"But this number... dozens of ships have arrived all at once. Could it be that some new large mineral vein has been discovered?"

Need to transfer here?

"It doesn't look like an ordinary mining ship!"

Another worker squinted, trying to make out some blurry, seemingly deliberately altered old markings on the barge's hull.

"It feels...thicker?"

And listen, the numbers on the anchor chain load-bearing capacity display at the berth are alarmingly high; this isn't just the weight of the empty ship…”

Although their conversation was confined to the group's communication channel, it seemed to have attracted the attention of several Imperial Army soldiers on guard nearby.

A soldier wearing a sergeant's armband and with a stern face strode over, patted the foreman's helmet without any politeness, and gruffly reprimanded him.

"Hello!

What are you whispering about?

Get to work! Don't look at what you shouldn't see, and don't guess what you shouldn't guess!

These are heavy engineering barges, used to transport special equipment, understand?

Fill the fuel tank to the standard line, perform other maintenance items according to the checklist, report immediately upon completion, and then leave this berth area!

This area is now under direct military control. Any unnecessary words or actions will be considered spying on military secrets!

The workers immediately fell silent, lowered their heads, and sped up their work.

The sergeant snorted coldly, his wary gaze sweeping over the silent barges, his hand always resting on the handle of the blaster at his waist.

They didn't know, and couldn't possibly know, that inside that largest and most unassuming "barge," the scene was entirely different.

Beneath the rough, heavy outer shell lies a smooth composite armor.

Hidden within the seemingly chaotic pipes and external structure are advanced sensor arrays and point defense turret bases.

The vast space inside the ship is not a cargo hold, but rather a neatly organized hangar, ammunition depot, and energy distribution center.

And the bridge, located in the core area, is brightly lit and filled with various tactical screens and command terminals.

Colonel Zane Barrett, commander of the Bloodblade Squadron, stood in the center of the bridge. He was tall and had a prominent scar on his face.

He was speaking to a humanoid projection with undisguised admiration.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant, Lancaster!"

His voice was loud and clear, echoing in the spacious bridge.

"Disguised as these slow and ugly mining barges, they sluggishly 'sneak' in along secondary routes..."

Haha, those hidden reconnaissance ships and monitoring stations of the Federation probably wouldn't even bother to give us a second glance!

They must think that only your Obsidian fleet, which has so brazenly jumped in to reinforce Savannah, is responsible for this!

Beside him stood Colonel Ryan Lancaster, commander of the Obsidian Squadron.

Compared to Zane's ruggedness, Lancaster appeared capable and calm. He smiled slightly, his gaze sweeping over the external view of the starport displayed on the main screen and the silent starry sky of the surrounding airspace.

"Sometimes, military force needs to be displayed openly as a deterrent!"

Lancaster said in a calm tone.

"Sometimes, you need to hide in the shadows and wait for the opportunity to strike a fatal blow."

Zane, your Bloodblade Fleet excels at direct assaults, while the Iron Curtain Fleet…”

He looked at the other side of the bridge, at a silent female projection, and spoke slowly.

"Skilled in defense and blocking."

Our three fleets have different characteristics, and their simultaneous warp-in creates an extremely obvious energy signal; the Federation is not blind.

But now…

He pulled up a strategic map of the Savannah system, which clearly showed several key nodes where the Obsidian Fleet was openly stationed.

Meanwhile, Bloodblade and Iron Curtain, like venomous snakes lurking in the shadows, are slowly making their way from other star systems to the Savannah system.

"My vanguard has now arrived on Langawei, and I await the arrival of my sub-class fleet and the Iron Curtain fleet!"

"Then we can gather superior forces to attack the Elvira system!"

Colonel Barrett said excitedly.

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a cold female voice came from the other side of the tactical platform.

"Making a mountain out of a molehill."

Colonel Isabella Marlowe, commander of the Iron Curtain Squadron.

She didn't look up; her slender fingers, covered in tiny scars, were still rapidly swiping across the data screen in front of her.

She was tall and slender, with neatly styled short silver-gray hair and a cold expression.

His eyes and brows carried the sharpness unique to those who had long been on the harsh front lines, along with a hint of barely perceptible fatigue.

"General Strauss's caution is a bit excessive."

She finally stopped, raised her head, and stared directly at Lancaster with her icy blue eyes, then glanced at Zane.

"To deal with a newly formed border defense fleet of the Federation, a fleet led by a 'rookie' whose commander is only 22 years old and has just graduated from the Federation Academy."

They actually want to assemble our three squadrons?

Obsidian, Blood Blade, and Iron Curtain?

She shook her head slightly, her tone carrying a clear sense of doubt.

"Even if that young man named Qin Beiwang managed to annihilate Wells' third-rate squadron by sheer luck and the opponent's carelessness."

What does that prove?

Can Wells' equipment, training, and commander quality compare to any of ours?

The outcome of this battle was never in doubt from the very beginning.

No matter how brilliantly we win, in the eyes of the Imperial military, it's nothing more than a matter of course.

What's so great about three elite squadrons defeating a fleet of new recruits?

That would make people think we won unfairly, or... that our abilities are limited to this.

Zane Barrett crossed his arms, and the scar on his face twitched.

He seemed to agree with Isabella's statement, but something felt off.

Lancaster did not immediately refute this.

He walked to the main screen and pulled up a short but highly encrypted intelligence summary, which contained Qin Beiwang's resume (although it was very short).

The recent unusual material movement records of the Elvira fleet (blurred).

And some scattered assessment keywords from the theater command regarding this person ("bold", "unpredictable", "unique background").

"Colonel Marlowe, your logic is sound from a purely military perspective."

Lancaster turned around, his voice steady yet weighty.

"But this battle was never just a simple military comparison."

It concerns the Empire's strategic deterrence in the region, and the morale of all the soldiers on the front lines observing this contest.

He paused, his gaze sweeping over his two colleagues.

"The Wells Squadron was completely annihilated, no matter how 'third-rate' it was originally, it was flying the flag of the Empire."

This shame needs to be washed away in the most indisputable and thorough way.

General Strauss summoned us not because he was worried about losing, but to ensure an absolutely perfect victory.

This victory will extinguish any remaining illusions the Federation may have, and it will show all the wavering forces on the Imperial borders the consequences of challenging the Empire's authority.