Chapter 495: The Asian Fleet Left Behind! Survival Has Never Been Easy!
"I propose that the Asian Fleet stay behind to monitor the situation on Earth."
As the joint council fell into heated dispute, the representative of the European Fleet raised his hand to speak.
Using the Natural Selection mutiny as his opening argument, he made a chilling insinuation that the Asian Fleet lacked internal cohesion and was therefore unfit to participate in this expedition.
This immediately left the Asian Fleet's representative speechless. Zhang Beihai's defection was indeed a fact, and it did serve as a political stain.
But if they didn't seize this battle to wash away their disgrace, then in the future the Asian Fleet's status and prestige would truly be trampled underfoot by the European and North American Fleets!
If they wanted to rise again and regain a voice in decision-making, it would be all but impossible.
Seizing the moment, the North American representative also piled on, joining forces with Europe to press the attack: "This is the eve of the Doomsday War. We cannot allow even a trace of defeatism to take root within our ranks.
"This would gravely damage our morale, as well as the people's confidence in resisting the Trisolarans. I too believe the Asian Fleet should remain behind."
In that vast council chamber, more than two-thirds of the votes immediately swung in favor of keeping the Asian Fleet on Earth.
Seeing this, the Asian Fleet's delegation protested furiously: "This is unfair! That was only an isolated incident, and does not mean the Asian Fleet lacks cohesion.
"I object! You cannot strip us of our right to fight against the Trisolarans—we've been preparing for this day for two hundred years!"
Despite their strenuous objections and reasoned arguments, the North American and European Fleets were, at the root, one and the same bloc.
They controlled the main channels of the council's voice. From the moment the votes crushed the Asian Fleet, the decision to leave them behind could no longer be overturned.
Soon, the joint council's top leadership revised the plan: only the North American and European Fleets, a total of 1,400 stellar-class warships, would set out. The remaining forces, together with the Asian Fleet, were to return to Earth to guard against the Universal Megacorp's Infinity-class carrier.
Once this resolution passed, the representatives of the North American and European Fleets secretly rejoiced. They had long thought two thousand ships sent against a single probe was excessive.
If they could exclude one fleet, that meant a bigger share of the glory—an opportunity to trumpet their fleets' prowess.
With the Asian Fleet eliminated as a rival, their influence and prestige within humanity would rise another step.
Meanwhile, deprived of their chance to fight, the soldiers of the Asian Fleet returned home disheartened, obeying orders and turning their bows back toward Earth.
Yet at this moment, the fates of the three fleets diverged, each heading toward a very different destiny.
With Earth-duty sealed, the Asian Fleet's representatives had no choice but to pivot toward cooperation with the Universal Megacorp, hoping to make up for the loss of participating in the Doomsday War.
After all, if they could soothe the Megacorp and forge an alliance with that mysterious power, it would still count as a contribution to human civilization.
At that very moment, far away on Earth, Paul once again re-established remote communications with the three fleets.
But this time, only the Asian Fleet's high command appeared; the other two had already left the council, bound for the battlefield.
"Mr. Paul, I regret to inform you," Jonathan said as mildly as he could, "that the International Fleet has declined your proposal for joint operations. They've reassigned the Asian Fleet back to Earth, to wait until after the battle is over before making further decisions."
Jonathan's words were chosen with care, for fear that one wrong phrase might provoke the Megacorp into unleashing carnage on Earth. Until the Asian Fleet returned, their lives were in Paul's hands.
But Paul had already anticipated this outcome. He merely smiled indifferently: "Mr. Jonathan, you should be glad the International Fleet kept some ships back—otherwise the Trisolarans would wipe them all out."
Hearing this, Jonathan's face darkened. Who spoke like that? The war hadn't even begun, yet he was already pronouncing humanity's defeat.
Paul said no more, and simply waited with patience for the Doomsday War to begin.
…
By now, the North American and European Fleets had departed in full from the Jupiter base, forming dense battle lines and charging toward the Trisolaran probe.
At around 1 a.m. Earth time, the news flashed across media outlets: [The Joint Fleet has officially set out from the Jupiter base!]
From the southern hemisphere, people could even glimpse the departing interstellar armada with the naked eye.
In Australia, South Africa, and South America, crowds eagerly tilted their heads skyward, trying to spot Jupiter.
It was no easy task.
Fortunately, with television experts guiding them, they soon located the planet in the southwestern sky—along with faint pinpricks of starlight.
At that moment, the fleet's brilliance was already crossing the five-AU gap toward Earth.
Nearly an hour later, Jupiter's brightness suddenly flared, quickly outshining Sirius to become the most dazzling object in the night sky.
Then, a brilliant star detached itself from Jupiter, as if a soul slipping its shell, while Jupiter itself dimmed back to its former glow.
That star drifted steadily away, pulling distance between itself and the gas giant. This was the fleet's departure, the light Earth's people were only now witnessing an hour after it had happened.
Almost simultaneously, live images and video from the Jupiter base reached Earth.
Across the globe, humanity beheld the breathtaking sight of a new "sun" blazing in the darkness!
Those two thousand suns embodied more than two centuries of humanity's effort. They stood in perfect rectangular formation, leaving humanity's mark upon the silent void of the solar system.
Under their glow, Jupiter and its moons looked as if they were aflame.
Soon, the fleet accelerated, that rectangular colossus of steel surging forth with unstoppable might, proclaiming humanity's dignity and resolve to fight the Trisolarans to the bitter end.
Two centuries ago, when the Trisolaran fleet set out, despair had seized humanity. The shadow of that dread had hung like a Damoclean sword over every head.
Only now was that burden finally lifted.
The Trisolarans had their fleet—humanity had one too. And ours was even greater!
In that instant, people poured into the streets, gazing skyward through tears. Many broke down sobbing. In such a moment, all barriers dissolved. No more divisions, no more prejudice.
Millennia of wars, historical grievances, and racial hatreds—at that moment, all vanished into smoke. Humanity came as close as ever to true unity.
But Paul and the others only watched in silence. They knew this collective surge of emotion, this bridge-effect, would not last long.
After the Doomsday War, whatever its outcome, humanity would again descend into mutual hatred.
It would not take long for them to realize that, compared to the gulf in technology, all their two centuries of effort were no more than a drop in the ocean.
Just as Paul was thinking about how to deal with the aftermath of the Doomsday Battle, Jonathan arrived with new orders to remind him:
"Mr. Paul, the Fleet International has formally reached an agreement. Please return to the council chamber now."
In fact, the decision to send the Asian Fleet back had already been made long ago, but a series of procedural changes and paperwork had delayed its implementation.
Paul nodded and followed Jonathan back into the conference room. As before, the vast chamber was now left with only the Asian Fleet delegation.
The representatives of the North American and European Fleets had already vanished completely, leaving only a group of Asian faces behind.
"My apologies. The other members of the joint council have other urgent matters to attend to, so it's just us continuing this dialogue. But that doesn't affect anything."
"On behalf of Fleet International, I welcome your return."
The Asian Fleet representative's smile was faintly stiff and bitter. Because of Zhang Beihai—such a rotten apple—they had been kicked back to Earth to act as gatekeepers.
The ridicule and scorn from the outside world would soon engulf and drown them.
Paul, however, cared nothing for what the other man was thinking. He calmly asked, "How many stellar-class warships have you deployed?"
This was destined to be a one-way campaign. How much of humanity's seed would remain depended entirely on how many chips Fleet International had thrown in that would never come back.
"All of the North American and European Fleet's ships have gone. Only our Asian Fleet's more than seven hundred warships have returned to Earth, waiting for new orders."
The Asian Fleet representative's face darkened. He was furious at the joint council's blatant bias, and equally angry that the Universal Megacorp had chosen the worst possible time to reappear on Earth.
But Paul seemed completely oblivious to his expression. He simply nodded. "That's not too bad. At least a third of the strength is preserved—it won't all be wiped out in one blow."
Paul knew he could never stop these arrogant fools, each one rushing headlong to their deaths. The only thing he could do was issue a warning, then use the Infinity-class carrier to tie down part of Fleet International's forces.
Being able to keep seven hundred ships back was already no small achievement.
Human civilization in the Trisolaran universe had endured its two centuries of hardship clinging to false, inflated confidence. Now it was time for a searing defeat to pierce that bubble, to force them to face reality.
Survival had never been easy, and there was no such thing as luck. Even a moment's slackness could consign one to annihilation.
Hearing Paul's words, the Asian Fleet representative furrowed his brow and probed, "Wiped out by the Trisolarans? Just with that probe?"
Not just him—even Fleet International's scientists would scoff at Paul. Their stellar-class warships were hundreds of thousands of times larger than that probe.
How could they possibly lose to a tiny Trisolaran detector?
"Yes. You were never a match for the Trisolarans. Never."
The words had barely fallen when a furious uproar broke out across the chamber. They were hot-blooded soldiers, after all—how could they stomach such an insult?
The presiding chairman of the council also looked displeased. He questioned Paul: "Are you suggesting that only if we had sent the Asian Fleet as well could we have destroyed the Trisolaran probe?"
Paul shook his head. "It doesn't matter how many ships you send. This battle is doomed to be lost. By sending the Asian Fleet back to Earth, at least some strength can be preserved."
This calm yet cutting sarcasm made one officer leap to his feet. He barked angrily, "So what you mean is, everything humanity has done over the past two hundred years was meaningless?"
"That Fleet International's warships and warriors are nothing but disposable trash? Your pathetic nihilism is even more disgraceful than escapism."
Paul almost nodded—because yes, their efforts truly meant little. The only meaningful thing might have been to buy some time, allowing human civilization to cling on until now.
As long as you live, there will always be a chance.
But before Paul could speak, the chairman cut him off coldly: "Enough!"
"Mr. Paul, I must remind you—and your Universal Megacorp—no matter where you come from, humanity will never bow to the Trisolarans."
"Your venomous words will not extinguish our resolve to resist, and the United Fleet will not abandon its advance just because of your curse."
No one believed that over a thousand warships could fail against the Trisolarans' water drop. No one believed that Fleet International would crumble at the hands of the Trisolaran civilization.
This was the department embodying humanity's strongest scientific and military might. If even they could not stand, then humanity would plunge into a dark age from which it would never rise again.
Facing the hatred in the eyes of countless officers and delegates, Paul grew only calmer. He knew they were all just holding themselves together—inside, the terror of the Trisolarans had already shattered them into fragments.
Without the glue of false confidence and arrogance, they would collapse into despair and suicide in minutes.
But humanity could not live forever in delusion, fleeing from reality. Only by seeking life through death could it ever progress—only then could it hope to contend with the Trisolarans.
"Things will not change because of your wishful thinking. It won't be long before time proves me right."
Seeing Paul's resolute certainty, the Asian Fleet's supreme commander recalled Zhang Beihai. He too had once held the same firm conviction—that humanity was doomed to defeat.
"So you're also an escapist? You believe running away is the only way to survive?"
"No. We believe humanity will prevail—but only under the leadership of the Universal Megacorp can final victory be achieved."
Paul seized the chance to state his position, raising the banner of the Megacorp as a new political choice.
The leadership of humanity's advance could only rest in a single core authority. Fleet International and Earth International could not both exist. Only when the five fingers closed into a fist could the strongest blow be struck outward.
"But right now, you still haven't learned enough lessons. In truth, humanity has never learned anything. Only by holding the deepest reverence for survival itself can you hope to live on."
"And you clearly underestimate how difficult survival is—especially when facing a species on the brink of extinction like the Trisolarans. You've not treated them with enough wariness."
Paul's words stabbed at the officers and delegates one after another. But he no longer cared what they thought.
Leaving those words behind, he turned and walked away.
He had done all he could. Now he only had to wait for Fleet International's defeat and collapse—so that the Universal Megacorp could step in as the savior to turn the tide.
Remaining here, wasting time in a war of words with these fools, meant nothing. Better to let cruel reality itself awaken these cosmic infants still lost in their dreams.
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