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Chapter 9 - Chapter 9: Worth and Not Worth

The sky gradually lightened with a faint gray dawn. A cool breeze swept through, scattering the lingering smoke of battle, though traces still lingered. Fresh snow covered the old blood, and for the first time, a sense of peace and tranquility settled over the world.

The first rays of sunlight illuminated the shimmering star monument, though the beam of light that pierced the sky last night had long since ceased. In its place, a rhythmic signal flickered periodically, guiding the troops. The soldiers were noticeably relaxed, having successfully completed their mission. The deep space coordinates of Eagle Valley Star had been transmitted to the fleet, and after the orbital strikes and bombing runs from the fleet's air force, the enemy forces besieging the fortress withdrew just before dawn, leaving the once-defiant stronghold in eerie silence.

Several fighters streaked across the sky in a wedge formation, leaving white trails against the clear blue. Soldiers on the fortress walls eagerly watched as transport ships landed one after another at the temporary field airport outside the city, unloading vast amounts of military supplies. As the Titan mech units, bearing the flags of the Iron Riders, disembarked, the people erupted in cheers, embracing one another. Wherever the Alliance's "Phoenix" Titan mechs appeared, victory followed.

Tang Ning squinted at the Titan that had finally arrived, long overdue in his eyes. Rubbing his eyes, he silently stepped aside, allowing the impatient crowd to push forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the imposing Iron Riders. It seemed they had already forgotten that only hours ago, countless young lives had melted away in this hellish battlefield.

Tang Ning climbed over the parapet and, with a clang, jumped onto the fallen Ivan the Terrible mech. The once-mighty tyrant lay collapsed against the side of the wall, its left side vertically pressed against its chest, while its broken right arm was grotesquely jammed into the hollow where its head used to be.

Tang Ning caught a whiff of the acrid smell of leaking reactor fluid from the mech. This highly explosive fuel had been hastily contained by a simple magnetic field, as both the Empire and the Alliance cared little for this planet beyond its navigation beacon. Both sides had come here for the sole purpose of waging war.

Navigating through the jagged gaps in the iron wreckage, Tang Ning carefully scanned the area, searching for any trapped bodies within the solidified molten steel. Sliding down the mech's chest, he overlooked the strangely pink palm of the Ivan the Terrible. The bodies fused into the metal were beyond retrieval, and the mech, weighing hundreds of tons, would have to be cut apart with electric saws, cremated, and returned to the fleet.

The deeper he ventured, the more desolate the scene became. Tang Ning stopped beside a roughly two-meter-wide hole, its edges completely carbonized. Crouching down, he pried off a small piece of metal from the edge, covering his mouth, unsure whether to laugh or cry. He wiped the metal furiously until the friction from his gloves heated it, revealing faint traces of the characters "Liao" and "Ten."

This was the last remaining trace of a paratrooper named Shen Zihua on this forsaken planet.

Tang Ning stiffly rose, the morning light stinging his eyes. He staggered, nearly losing his balance, tumbling several times into the snow. But no one on the fortress walls noticed, too busy cheering for the Iron Riders. It was nearly a full fifteen minutes before Tang Ning managed to get back on his feet, clutching the broken fragment of Shen Zihua's honor sword, and limped into the fortress.

Outside the star monument plaza, the bodies of fallen soldiers were laid out. Tang Ning spread open a fresh body bag, his left hand twisting the edges into a wrinkled knot, before placing Shen Zihua's broken honor sword fragment inside as if cradling a person. He carefully laid it among the other paratroopers who had sacrificed their lives before dawn.

"All accounted for?" Tang Ning asked without looking back. Behind him, two figures, Yue Dong and Zhang Yueyang, approached slowly. These two old comrades had been in the same squad as Tang Ning since before the expedition. Over time, Tang Ning had risen to the rank of captain, Yue Dong had become his deputy, and Zhang Yueyang had been promoted to senior sergeant.

"All the fallen are here," Yue Dong replied.

"Call the surviving brothers," Tang Ning ordered.

Within minutes, the surviving paratroopers stood in front of their comrades who had been laid to rest. No one sobbed, and no one cried. Death had become a mundane occurrence for orbital paratroopers. From the moment they stepped into the drop pods, they had entered hell. Reaching heaven again would be far more difficult.

"If there's anything you want to say, say it now. Pour a drink if you have one, leave a cigarette if you've got it. Next time we meet, it'll be at the military cemetery," Tang Ning said wearily. Before the mission, there had been over two hundred of them; now, fewer than fifty could stand on their own. Tang Ning didn't know whether it was his failure as an officer or something else entirely.

"Dismissed. Go do what you need to do," Tang Ning waved dismissively as he leaned against an empty ammo box.

A cigarette was handed to him. Tang Ning barely lifted his eyelids as he took it. Zhang Yueyang lit it for him. The heavy winds, saturated with the smell of blood and sand, nearly choked him, making Tang Ning cough violently. A few tears even welled up in his tired, dry eyes. Both men smoked in silence, watching the paratroopers, who mourned their comrades with quiet dignity, only showing their emotions when they turned their backs to the crowd, biting their lips and wiping their faces.

Tang Ning turned away, cigarette in hand, his voice raspy. "Do you remember the last time we played football on Zhoshen Star? I still can't believe you blocked at least two of my shots. Then, in the last minute of the game, you tripped me on purpose. Unbelievable," Tang Ning chuckled a few times as he spoke.

"We all agreed to behave and play a friendly match when we boarded the ship. But who was it that brought a girl to the game? Bringing one would've been bad enough, but by the second half, how many girls were cheering you on? Unbelievable," Zhang Yueyang scolded Tang Ning, pointing at him with mock anger, but the smile that followed quickly faded, leaving him caught between laughing and crying.

Tang Ning took a deep drag, lowering his voice. "Well, it's more or less how you guessed… Hey? What are they doing over there?" He pointed towards a group of infantry in dusty yellow uniforms, who were moving body bags onto an engineering vehicle.

Tang Ning immediately crushed his cigarette underfoot, striding over to the group. Gripping his honor sword, he barked, "Stop! What unit are you from? Who gave you the order to start looting here?!"

The infantry, seeing that the angry paratrooper was a captain, exchanged hesitant glances, unsure whether to retreat or continue. Tang Ning saw one of the body bags being carelessly lifted by two corners, and his rage instantly boiled over. "Put it back! Where the hell were you cowards when the battle was happening?! And now you're quicker than rabbits to scavenge the battlefield!"

The scolding was loud enough to draw the attention of most of the people in the plaza. Soon, a nearby officer, with an air of superiority, approached Tang Ning. Tilting his head, he said, "This area has been designated as the mech staging ground for the Iron Riders. Withdraw your men immediately, Captain."

The word "Captain" was deliberately drawn out, emphasizing his two bars and one star. Tang Ning glanced at his paratroopers, who had been watching silently. His outburst had not disturbed any of the grieving soldiers. Fueled by anger, Tang Ning turned back and glared at the pompous officer, his voice icy. "And what if I refuse?!"

"This is a direct order, Captain!" the officer retorted.

Without another word, Tang Ning grabbed the officer by the collar and headbutted him. With a sickening crack, the officer's nose collapsed, spraying blood all over Tang Ning's face. Ignoring the stunned onlookers, Tang Ning swung his fist, hammering the officer's previously pristine face until Zhang Yueyang forcibly pulled him back.

Clutching his shattered face, the officer howled, kicking and lashing out at a few infantrymen. "Get the MPs! Get the MPs!"

Tang Ning spat at him, growling, "Go ahead! Call them! I'll make sure you meet them lying down!" He broke free from Zhang Yueyang's grip and delivered a flying kick, sending the officer sprawling. The infantry, unwilling to see their officer so ruthlessly beaten, swarmed forward. But the paratroopers, fed up with their own frustrations, shouted as they charged in with sword scabbards. Within moments, the plaza devolved into chaos, with helmets, canteens, and gun butts flying everywhere.

Just as the scuffle threatened to turn into a full-blown fight, a deafening clang echoed across the plaza, stopping everyone in their tracks. All eyes turned toward a towering Phoenix mech, its massive hands gripping twin heavy swords, having just slammed them into the ground.

"Fleet Regulation 22! Under no circumstances are soldiers permitted to insult, fight, or engage in group brawls! MPs! Arrest everyone involved!" boomed the mech's external speakers.

Under the watchful gaze of the Phoenix mech, the arriving military police swiftly rounded up those involved in the brawl. Tang Ning winced, letting out a sharp

 breath as he cradled his now bleeding hand. Zhang Yueyang cursed in frustration, tossing aside his broken sword, now useless from the fight.

"Well, Captain, looks like we're in for it now," Zhang Yueyang said with a wry grin.

Tang Ning chuckled bitterly, watching the MPs approach with handcuffs.