Chapter 396: The Opposite Conclusion

However, after fifteen minutes of intense debate regarding this cosmic war, the high-ranking officials arrived at a completely opposite conclusion...

"There actually aren’t that many wars in the universe!"

Escaping was almost too easy!

Because of this, it seemed extraordinarily difficult to completely eradicate a deeply rooted interstellar civilization.

Why did they reach this conclusion?

Even though the Federation was vastly overpowered, they still managed to slip away. A suspected Tier 4 spaceship going up against a novice Tier 2 vessel and without the enemy even using a fraction of their true strength, the Federation had still managed to escape.

They had even managed to trade blows.

Of course, claiming they "traded blows" was just a comforting lie for the higher-ups. In reality, the enemy likely suffered zero structural damage.

But the bottom line remained: humanity had successfully fled.

Given that the speed of light could be easily surpassed through warp travel, this reasoning made perfect sense. Unless there were massive conflicting interests, wars in the universe shouldn’t be a frequent occurrence, save for those abnormally belligerent empires.

Moreover, this hypothesis perfectly aligned with the historical records left by the "Black" entity: Interstellar civilizations could be unfriendly, they could ignore one another, and they could have border disputes. However, total wars of annihilation were incredibly rare.

"To truly eradicate an established interstellar civilization, even with overwhelming firepower, would require an immense amount of effort. It might take tens of thousands, or even hundreds of thousands of years, and success wouldn’t even be guaranteed."

"If you can’t win a fight, you can always just run away."

Naturally, this specific skirmish was an exception; the immense value of the Gaia entity was more than enough to trigger a localized war between advanced empires.

This was especially true when one side was vastly superior and assumed the other could be crushed like a bug.

Yet, the fledgling Federation had actually pulled it off. The enemy had discovered the treasure first, but humanity had managed to snatch the incredibly valuable creature right out from under them. The entire heist was nothing short of a miracle!

"I imagine that once their main fleet arrives in orbit and discovers the signal jammers we left behind, they’ll be absolutely driven mad with rage..."

"Yeah... I wonder if they’ll just nuke Planet Digg out of spite."

The thought of the Gaia entity, currently swimming energetically in their ecological lake, lifted everyone’s spirits. They were even in a good enough mood to crack a few jokes.

Getting back to the main point, this minor border conflict would not alter the political landscape of the Milky Way.

Interstellar civilizations were rare. If an empire could easily carve out a territory spanning thousands of light-years and encompassing hundreds of millions of stars, who would willingly waste resources fighting a war of total annihilation?

"Perhaps this is the standard status quo of the Milky Way," Jason pondered. "Given that light speed is easily surpassed, interstellar civilizations are bound to be extremely wealthy. Without major conflicts of interest, the benefits of communication and trade far outweigh the costs of war."

"Even a short-tempered empire like The Annihilators completely ignored the lowly native species... which implies they already have more than enough basic resources."

"So, is peaceful development the ultimate theme of the galaxy?"

Of course, the Federation was currently at too low of a technological tier to safely interact or trade with established empires. They had to wait until they grew stronger on their own.

"Run! Get out of their territory! Just keep running!"

...

After the meeting concluded, Jason walked out of the conference room looking slightly annoyed.

Over the course of several hours, the committee had only managed to pass two useful resolutions.

First, even after breaking the light-speed barrier, Deep Space would need to take the risk of dropping out of warp to execute several emergency course corrections. Because warp trajectories were strictly linear and easy to predict, simply traveling faster than light did not guarantee safety.

If the enemy blindly fired a massive barrage of faster-than-light warp missiles down their flight path, Deep Space could still be obliterated. Dropping out of warp to alter their vector was necessary to prevent this.

Second, the fleet still intended to head toward the Galactic Center.

As for whether this remote sector belonged to the enemy, or whether the enemy fleet was still relentlessly pursuing them, the committee had no desire to launch any active probes to find out.

The plan was to leave the hostile empire entirely in the dust in one fell swoop.

To paraphrase one of the senators: "We’ve already secured the prize, so there’s absolutely no reason to fight them head-on."

Because humanity possessed the Precursor vault, their energy reserves far exceeded anything the enemy could possibly predict.

Humanity could run indefinitely. Even if the pursuing warships possessed incredibly advanced technology, they were still bound by the limits of conventional physics. They likely relied on standard subspace drives and would eventually need to drop out of warp to refuel.

"We are currently in the Orion Arm of the Milky Way. Our destination is the Scutum-Centaurus Arm, which is roughly a thousand light-years away!"

"It is highly unlikely that the enemy’s sphere of influence spans across two distinct galactic spiral arms. The void between the arms is relatively barren of stars, making it difficult for them to replenish their resources. It’s the perfect place to shake them off."

"We must prepare for an extremely long campaign. This voyage could take a very long time."

Sitting alone in the captain’s quarters, Jason let out a heavy sigh.

He was reviewing a massive stack of logistics data, including structural damage assessments and casualty reports.

Following the intense battle, their reserves were in ruins. Fortunately, Deep Space was massive and robustly designed, preventing total structural failure.

"But... the repair costs are going to bleed us dry!"

More than half of the weapons and equipment across their armories had been depleted, and nearly all of their small combat strike craft had been destroyed.

Their railgun ammunition was completely exhausted. In particular, the massive deployment of particulate chaff clouds had burned through an astronomical amount of raw materials, both metallic and inorganic.

"Using solid matter as a laser defense screen costs a massive fortune!"

Looking at the raw numbers on the digital tablet, Jason couldn’t help but curse, "Who the hell came up with this brilliant idea anyway?"

Raw matter was the most precious commodity in the universe. In some ways, using physical projectiles to block energy weapons was far more extravagant and wasteful than powering an energy shield.

But it was this incredibly crude, expensive method that had ultimately saved them.

They still had vast reserves of Helium-3, meaning the fleet wouldn’t face an energy crisis anytime soon. That was their only silver lining.

Energy isn’t the problem, but raw materials... that’s a massive headache, he thought, frowning deeply.

The structural damage to Deep Space was severe. One primary nuclear reactor and one secondary reactor had suffered containment breaches, and the interior bulkheads had been heavily damaged by their own tactical nuclear detonations.

All adjacent support systems were slagged. There was no telling how much raw material would be required to rebuild those sectors.

On the starboard side, the armored plating that had absorbed the brunt of the enemy fire was essentially rotting away.

The craters eaten out by the nanite swarms and the bulkheads melted into slag by laser fire all had to be completely replaced.

Numerous quarantine bays had been breached. The thermal radiation arrays, weapons systems, and sensor nodes all required urgent replacement—and every single repair demanded resources!

Resources, resources, resources!

Deep Space was colossal. Patching it up would require a staggering amount of material—equivalent to fabricating an entire third of a capital ship from scratch. The required supplies were measured in the billions of tons.

Most of the repairs could be delayed, but the thermal radiation arrays were absolutely critical.

Without them, the waste heat generated by the ship’s internal systems would have nowhere to vent. It would accumulate inside the hull and slowly roast the crew alive.

Thermodynamic equilibrium was a matter of life and death in the vacuum of space; it directly dictated a vessel’s maximum industrial output.

In space, it didn’t matter how advanced your manufacturing capabilities were, if you couldn’t dissipate the heat, your factories were useless!

From a tiny shuttle to a planetary spaceship, thermal balance was paramount. Even with humanity’s mastery of controlled nuclear fusion, they couldn’t generate more power than their environment could safely absorb.

Doing so on a planetary scale would destroy the ecosystem; doing so on a ship would melt the hull.

Therefore, restoring the ship’s heat dissipation arrays was the absolute highest priority, and it demanded an immediate, massive injection of raw materials.

"And it’s not just the hull repairs," Lily said coldly, rattling off a long list of data as she reviewed the manifest. "We’ve burned through almost all of our strike craft, armaments, and munitions. We have to manufacture a new fleet.

A new Titan-class is too expensive to consider right now, but we need at least one to two thousand Space Swallow fighters just to maintain a basic defensive screen."

"We have to restock all of our kinetic shells. We can’t afford to wait until the next battle starts to begin production. All of these supplies are non-negotiable."

"I know, I know..." Jason nodded repeatedly, begrudgingly authorizing the supply requisitions.

Navigating the dark forest of the universe without a standing army was like walking naked through a warzone, it was a death sentence.

Therefore, these military expenditures were absolute necessities. They couldn’t cut them out; they could only debate the margins.

"Furthermore, considering this voyage will span the next few centuries, various components across Deep Space will suffer mechanical failure and need to be replaced. It’s inevitable,"

Lily continued calmly. "We must factor this in now. The warp drive alone will need its core components swapped out at least four times over the journey."

"Factoring in the natural degradation of our raw materials..."

By the time she finished her calculations, the Precursor vault’s once-overflowing resource stockpiles had been slashed by a full fifty percent.

"Then we have to account for R&D and civilian living expenses. While we can recycle matter as long as we have power, it’s never a perfectly lossless system. And we must preserve exactly twenty percent of our total reserves for extreme emergencies. That stockpile cannot be touched unless we are facing total extinction."

Jason sighed heavily, staring at the rapidly shrinking numbers on the screen.