His gaze finally settled on one of the men surrounding him—an exceptionally burly man with wheat-colored skin and a face as cold and hard as stone.
He was the most suffocating presence among the group.
Wood cast his final pleading look toward him.
However, the burly man, the assault team leader Rek, didn't even bat an eyelid.
His gray eyes held no emotion whatsoever, only tilting his head ever so slightly toward a team member standing behind and to the side of Wood.
It was the signal for action.
That team member moved with ghostly speed, his naturally hanging arm seeming to swing gently.
A short needle hidden in a precision launcher within his sleeve slipped into his palm.
He took half a step forward, as if to help the collapsing Wood.
His other hand clamped down like an iron vise on Wood's wrist, which was attempting to resist, and the needle tip pierced precisely and swiftly into the artery area on the side of Wood's neck.
Wood's body convulsed violently, a short, choked gasp escaping his throat, his eyes instantly filled with terror and despair.
His struggling strength lasted less than a second against the potent neural inhibitor injected by the needle.
His eyelids drooped heavily, his pupils dilated, and all muscular strength was instantly drained.
Like a piece of wood losing its support, he slid limply down the wall, collapsing into a heap, leaving only faint breaths.
The entire process was silent, taking no more than two or three seconds.
Another team member immediately stepped forward.
With practiced ease, he stuffed a half-drunk, cheap bottle of Stardust Spirits with a crumpled label into Wood's arms.
Then, he sprinkled a small amount of the liquor on Wood's chest and the corner of his mouth.
Next, they arranged Wood's body into the common posture of a drunkard slumped in a corner, his head tilted toward the shadows.
The image of a transport ship captain who had drunk too much due to nerves or celebration, wandered into a remote pipeline area, and ultimately passed out was instantly complete.
In such a massive space station with mixed personnel and relatively lax management, it was all too common for drunks to sleep overnight in non-critical areas, hardly even drawing special attention from patrol teams.
These crew members were, of course, not Wood's original team.
They belonged to the Special Assault Detachment, codenamed Phantom, under the Sky Star Carrier Battle Group.
Specializing in infiltration behind enemy lines, intelligence theft, sabotage of high-value targets, and pinpoint elimination.
After Qin Bei Wang meticulously analyzed the daunting defensive data of the Abuja Stellar Ring, he discovered that, beyond the conventional shields, fighter craft, and close-in weapon system arrays, this massive structure concealed a true strategic-grade weapon.
The Wildfire Large-scale Directed Energy Fortress Cannon.
The energy source of this cannon was directly connected to the main Energy Core of the stellar ring, and the power of its single focused discharge was sufficient to instantly vaporize a standard Sub-Level Fleet within its effective range.
It was the symbol of Abuja Ring's upgrade from a logistics hub to an armed fortress, and a death threshold that any frontal assault fleet would have to pay a heavy price to cross.
To maximize the preservation of fleet strength and reduce the immense losses that a direct assault on Abuja Ring might incur, Qin Bei Wang decisively activated this trump card, originally held as a strategic reserve force.
The mission objective was clear: infiltrate the Abuja Ring before the main fleet launched its surprise attack, locate the energy core or critical control systems of the Wildfire Giant Cannon, and destroy or paralyze it—to remove this most dangerous thorn.
Captain Quentin Kane took one last look at Wood, who was now disguised on the ground, confirming everything was correct.
He gave a concise gesture.
The members of Phantom Squad immediately began moving, removing their jackets bearing the Gray Mole insignia and revealing the overalls underneath, similar in style to those worn by station engineering and maintenance personnel.
They quickly dispersed, like drops of water merging into the sea, silently disappearing into the shadows of the intricate pipeline network.
They proceeded toward the deep layers of the station, stealthily advancing toward the core region of that formidable Wildfire Giant Cannon.
Abuja Stellar Ring, deep defense zone, Wildfire Giant Cannon control hub.
Compared to the bustling docking ports and residential ring belts, this area felt exceptionally quiet, spacious, and even somewhat dull with neglect.
In the massive circular main control hall, only one-third of the control consoles were lit with basic standby lights.
Those large panels marked with critical functions like focus calibration, energy diversion, and energy extraction were covered with a thin layer of dust, barely noticeable.
The air carried the stale scent of recycled air and the faint, elusive ozone smell unique to large energy capacitors.
This strategic-grade fortress cannon, which had been entrusted with great hopes, had been peaceful for too long.
So long that, aside from the essential automated maintenance systems and a few dutiful technical soldiers, most officers and operators within the organization had long regarded this place as a leisurely retirement post or simply a nominal position for padding payrolls.
Routine patrols were more like formalities. If not for the recent frequent Federation attacks prompting Command Headquarters to specifically increase the alert level for all critical facilities, the number of guards here would likely have been halved again.
Even so, the newly assigned guards were limited to the entrances and a few main passages.
For the intricate ventilation and maintenance pipeline networks within the control hub, as well as those non-critical areas long ignored in daily operations, defenses remained weak.
At this moment, outside the main control hall, inside a wide ventilation duct designed for heavy equipment cooling, Phantom Squad remained as quiet as shadows.
Captain Kane observed the situation below through a miniature camera and made several concise hand signals.
Action.
The duct grating was silently removed.
Several dark figures slid down quietly, landing precisely in a small storage room piled with cleaning machinery and old spare parts.
This was their pre-scouted Rally Point.
Once everyone assembled, the storage room door was gently closed.
Lieutenant Quentin Kane.
The specific commander of this sabotage operation.
He crouched down, deploying instructions through gestures combined with nearly imperceptible whispers.
"Time is tight. We split into two groups.
Martin!"
He looked at the deputy captain.
"You take four brothers, target: B-7 Energy Control Zone.
Priority: destroy the Main Energy Coupler and Secondary Capacitor Array, cut off or at least severely disrupt the giant cannon's rapid charging capability.
And install timed nuclear bombs."
Martin, with a stern face, nodded.
Kane continued.
"I'll lead the rest, heading straight to the core command room.
Target: completely paralyze the main control system."
"Remember, the operation must be quiet and swift.
Our window is only three hours.
Regardless of task completion, three hours later, the fleet attack begins precisely."
"This location will become the primary target at that time."
His gaze swept over each face smeared with camouflage paint.
"After completing the mission, return to this Rally Point via the original route.
Then, according to the backup plan, proceed to the No. 3 secondary port, seize the marked Albatross-class Fast Transport Ship, and evacuate."
"Understood?"
All team members responded with extremely slight nods, their eyes calm and sharp.
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