Meta 09: Not One Left

Their shouts were like a salvo from a heavy energy cannon, draining the last of Sutherland’s patience. “You’d better produce solid evidence. Otherwise, just for sabotaging the high-risk entity execution protocol, I could have you all executed on the spot!”

Rhine’s body was limp, his mind a muddle.

Lin Zhu propped him up, letting him lean against her. The netizens were furiously taking screenshots of this scene, but she had no time to blush or bicker with them. Like Vera, she fixed her gaze on the young men, hoping they could truly present evidence to turn the situation around.

The young man looked at Rhine.

Rhine Stran—always leading the charge in battle, personally covering the retreat, leading them to victory over the insectoid, earning military honors, avenging their families. The bonds forged on the battlefield could never be replaced by ordinary friendship, especially in this cold, inhuman Interstellar Federation.

He lifted his chin, meeting dozens of deathly stares. “I am Admiral Rhine’s apprentice adjutant, Sevier. When I was ten, the General rescued me from a insectoid’s jaws, and I’ve followed him ever since.”

He paused, his eyes taking on a depth far beyond his years. “During the B-791 campaign, the General saw that my physical functions were impaired, so he ordered me to stay at base and recover. But when I heard things were going badly on B-791, I was worried for the General and volunteered to join the fleet as reinforcements. But…”

Sutherland laughed, so angry he cut him off. “Don’t tell me you’re about to say that because of your physical impairment, you mishandled the assault ship controls, failed to arrive in time, and so all the blame is yours?”

Sevier looked at him and said, “That’s exactly what I mean.”

Sutherland let out a harsh laugh, at a loss for words. “Such brazen arrogance! A mere apprentice adjutant dares claim responsibility for the deaths of 120,000, for the catastrophic consequences of five out of eight squads destroyed…”

Sevier interrupted him. “Do you look down on me?”

Sutherland was taken aback—he hadn’t expected this junior officer to interrupt, let alone question him, his tone so calm, his eyes so resolute. For a moment, Sutherland seemed to see a young Rhine before him.

He gritted his teeth. “Fine. Go on. I want to see just what kind of impairment could affect fleet operations.”

Sevier said, “I was injured. My neural interface with the fleet systems is only at 66%. Normally, I don’t notice it, but in extreme maneuvers, the images transmitted to my brain lag by 0.23 seconds. In 0.23 seconds, an insectoid blade can pierce a mech cockpit three times over.”

Sevier’s medical report was quickly handed to Sutherland.

Sutherland’s eyes twisted with disbelief as he read it. Assigning such a critical mission to an adjutant with impaired neural connection? Military Command would never make such a rookie mistake. Besides, every key officer undergoes a function check before battle.

He shot Sevier a sidelong glance. The young man stood ramrod straight, his striking, deep-set eyes filled with a determination that said, “Death means nothing—I will protect the General.”

So that was it. They’d conspired to protect Rhine. Sutherland glanced over the six of them—one was a senior officer from Military Command.

That man made the whole story airtight: the senior officer receives orders to dispatch reinforcements to B-791, slips Sevier into the fleet, Sevier’s impairment delays the rescue, leading to Rhine’s defeat by the insectoid… On the surface, it all made sense.

But only on the surface. It wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny.

Sutherland didn’t plan to dig deeper now. “Arrest them all, pending further investigation.” Rhine was finished, but Vera still sat in the Marshal’s seat. If these six were used well, even if he couldn’t topple Vera, he could at least keep him in turmoil.

Sutherland’s men surged forward to seize Sevier and the others.

Sevier struggled. “We’ve confessed. You must release Admiral Rhine—he’s innocent.” Even as he was dragged away, he shouted, “Marshal Vera! Marshal Vera—” until his mouth was clamped shut.

Lin Zhu’s temper flared. She set Rhine down and strode up to Sutherland. “You shriveled old man, you’re rotten to the core! With the insectoid at our doorstep, you’re still fighting for power, stirring up civil strife. Look at you—your brow is dark, your cheeks are sunken, your eyes are hollow. You look like a short-lived wretch dancing on your own grave.”

Sutherland’s face changed.

Lin Zhu’s tongue flew. “I just did a divination for you. Guess what? The smoke rising from your family’s ancestral grave isn’t green—it’s black. Within three generations, your line will die out. No descendants, no one to burn you paper money when you’re dead!”

Sutherland tried to speak, “You—”

Lin Zhu jabbed a finger at his nose. “What, you? Look at all the brothers you’ve gotten killed. They’re waiting for you down below. When King Yama asks, ‘Sutherland, what did you do with your life?’ you’ll say, ‘Reporting, King Yama, I specialized in screwing over my own people.’ King Yama will give you a standing ovation. Hell’s eighteenth level will have a VIP suite just for you!”

The chat burst into laughter:

[The streamer’s mouth—no wonder she works at a funeral home!]

[Sutherland: I’ve lived for decades and never been roasted like this.]

[Look at Sutherland’s face—doesn’t he look like someone who’s realized, mid-squat, that he forgot to bring toilet paper? Hahaha!]

Sutherland fumed, glaring, then snapped his head away. “She has no psychic power. She’s obviously a mutated insectoid. Marshal Vera, if you don’t kill her, are you saving her for a sacrifice?”

Lin Zhu grabbed his face and turned it back to hers. “Listen, I’m a bona fide Earth beauty, not a bug. Stop using your broken machines on me. And another thing…” She remembered Sutherland’s words about Rhine being crippled. “Get Rhine to a hospital immediately, or I’ll curse you to death, chant the Rebirth Sutra until you and your ancestors can’t get a moment’s peace.”

Sutherland growled, “Vera!”

Vera just coughed. “This young lady said her mind went blank for a moment. Maybe that caused the zero result. To be safe, I think we should pick another date and test her again.”

Sutherland whipped his head around, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “As Supreme Commander of the Federation, you’re protecting a mutated bug?”

Vera’s voice was sharp. “I said, we’ll test her again—on another day.”

Sutherland, “……!!!”

Rhine was sent to the base hospital.

Vera made an exception, allowing Lin Zhu to stay by Rhine’s side and assigning two security teams—not just for surveillance, but to keep Sutherland from getting desperate and trying to kill her.

Vera had to protect the woman his beloved officer had saved with his own life.

The doctors gave Rhine a full examination. When one came out, his grave expression made everyone’s heart sink.

Vera said, “Speak freely.”

They’d been so focused on getting Rhine to the hospital, no one had thought to fetch a translator, so Lin Zhu didn’t understand a word of the conversation—but she could read the mood.

Rhine’s condition was dire.

The doctor tried to soften the blow, but it was futile. “Massive spinal nerve burns, severed neural connections, no response in the lower limbs. Admiral Rhine… he’ll spend the rest of his life in bed.”

Vera swayed, just once, like a mountain shaken at its roots. Lin Zhu instinctively reached out to steady him. His hand trembled as he lifted it. “I’m fine.”

No one else dared make a sound. Vera stood there for a full ten minutes, then finally said, “We’ll think of something else,” before turning away, dragging a body that seemed to have aged overnight.

He knew Rhine’s ambitions too well. He couldn’t face him.

Lin Zhu watched them leave in silence, then slid down the wall, a ton of stone pressing on her chest. The chat scrolled by in a noisy torrent, but she had no heart to look—any more of their mischief would only aggravate her. She closed her eyes and spoke to the screen, “Duck Egg, I’m ending the stream for now. Don’t worry about me.”

With a thought, the screen went dark. Peace. Silence. A dead, airless quiet. Lin Zhu slid to the floor.

Looking at the man lying motionless in the examination room, she let out a long breath. This debt to Rhine—she owed him dearly.

Five hours later, Rhine was wheeled out.

Five hours felt like five years.

He was transferred to a bio-regeneration chamber—a place somewhere between an operating room and a petri dish. Nanobot repair units floated in the nutrient solution, silently working at the wound on his spine.

Three days later, the medical team confirmed that Rhine’s neurons had reached the critical threshold for regeneration and that he was out of immediate danger. He was moved to a recovery unit reserved for senior officers.

The hospital bed hovered five centimeters above the floor, automatically adjusting its firmness and angle according to vital signs. Data scrolled silently across the screen at the head of the bed: neural reconnection progress, muscle atrophy index, pain threshold monitoring…

Rhine had not yet awakened.

With the translator Cohen had later brought her, Lin Zhu asked the doctor, “What are his chances of recovery?”

The doctor had no qualms with her. “Recovery? You’d better pray Admiral Rhine wakes up at all.”

Lin Zhu’s heart lurched.

She’d heard the sound of pile drivers on construction sites—heavy, relentless, pounding. Now her heart felt like a pile driver, hammering her chest.

After the doctor left, she sat quietly by the bed, looking at Rhine’s bloodless face, his long legs… thinking that from now on, this man would never stand again… She bowed her head in sorrow.

So it went for another ten days. During those ten days, Marshal Vera visited every day; if he absolutely couldn’t get away, he sent Cohen first, then came himself as soon as he could.

On the thirtieth day.

Rhine still had his eyes closed, tubes running everywhere, the data on the screen as flat and lifeless as death, showing no sign of awakening.

Vera stared at that face for a long time, then turned to the medical team standing behind him, heads bowed. “It’s been a month.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make their nerves snap taut. “You’re the Federation’s top medical team. Gene repair, neural regeneration, cell activation—the most advanced techniques, you’ve used them all. So what now?”

The medical team felt wronged. On the very first day, they’d given him Rhine’s diagnosis—the only conclusion they’d reached after exhausting all options.

With current interstellar medicine, there could be no miracle. But facing the Supreme Commander, struggling to contain his anger and disappointment, they dared not say so, only lowered their heads further.

Vera gave his final order. “You have one more month. If Rhine still hasn’t woken up, you’re all dismissed.” With that, he left. Every member of the medical team frowned deeply.

A month later.

Rhine still hadn’t awakened.

That day, the entire medical team was dismissed, not a single one spared. In the face of absolute power, professional skill was powerless to resist.