I Am The Swarm

“Commander, the Xiluo commander says they’ve suffered heavy losses and are requesting to withdraw for repairs.”

“Bullshit! During the charge earlier, they were hiding in the back, not only failing to contribute but also disrupting my formation! If they were from the Moto race, I’d have them executed on the spot!” The Moto commander was fuming, cursing loudly on the bridge.

“How should we respond to them?” the adjutant asked quietly after waiting for the commander to vent.

“Huff… tell them to get lost and find a place to stay. Don’t bother me.” After venting, the commander calmed down a bit. The Xiluo race was one of the most powerful civilizations in the Locke Mutual Aid Society, as evidenced by the fact that their main fleet had been assigned to the central forces.

However, he had also been assigned about a hundred Xiluo warships, supposedly to bolster his high-end combat capabilities. In reality, these were noble offspring from the Xiluo race who had come to gain some military prestige.

The Xiluo commander was worried that if something happened to them in the central battlefield, he wouldn’t be able to bear the responsibility. So, he had formed a separate unit with these individuals and sent them here.

The Moto commander couldn’t really say much about this, as not all of the Xiluo race were avoiding combat. Out of consideration, he had assigned them to the middle layer of the front line, a relatively safe position shielded by friendly forces ahead, so they wouldn’t have to face the Swarm’s firepower directly.

If they wanted, they could fire a few shots; if not, they could stay put and rack up military achievements. It was supposed to be a safe position. But even so, these individuals still felt threatened and had almost retreated to the rear of the formation.

To be honest, while the Xiluo race’s technology was advanced, their numbers were too small to make a significant impact on the overall flank. Their combat effectiveness was something the Moto commander didn’t really care about.

Unfortunately, the Moto commander’s worst fears came true.

The Swarm was incredibly powerful. On the flanks, as both sides remained locked in a stalemate, casualties continued to rise. In war, some losses were normal, and everyone was mentally prepared. Moreover, with the Moto fleet leading the charge, no one wanted to fall behind.

But now, a group of privileged individuals who didn’t follow the rules had broken an unspoken agreement. Seeing the Xiluo race violate military orders without punishment made other civilizations uneasy.

After all, everyone was here to help. If they were fighting on the front lines, why should others get to watch from the back? Were the lives of the Xiluo race more valuable than theirs?

As a result, many began to follow suit. Fleets from various races started requesting to withdraw from the battle for various reasons.

This infuriated the already livid Moto commander. These civilizations outranked the Moto race, and he couldn’t afford to offend them. In the end, he had no choice but to tacitly allow their actions.

But with their withdrawal, the gaps they left had to be filled. Reluctantly, the Moto commander had to use his own fleet to plug the holes.

However, the Moto race had only ventured beyond their home planet less than ten thousand years ago. Despite being given a boost before the war, their fleet’s combat capabilities still lagged behind those of other races.

Thus, although the coordination improved with their own people at the front, the overall decline in quality gradually shifted the balance of the stalemate.

On the battlefield, the central forces were advancing like a hot knife through butter. Led by the Troi warships, despite their own heavy losses, the Swarm forces were faring even worse. The Swarm’s concave formation was on the verge of being breached.

But the flanks were being pushed back by the Swarm. A large number of advanced warships were hiding in the rear, while the host Moto fleet had already lost over half its strength.

This situation made the Moto commander’s heart bleed. Finally…

“Pfft…” Overwhelmed by anger and frustration, the Moto commander spat out a mist of blood and collapsed heavily onto his back.

“Commander?”

“Commander!”

“…”

A cry of alarm rang out as the surrounding Moto personnel rushed to his side…

Thus, the first non-combat casualty among the high-ranking commanders occurred after the war began.

The coalition commander quickly received the news, his face darkening. He had already noticed the decline on the flanks and had sent inquiries.

But the feedback he received left him with a headache. Putting himself in their shoes, he realized there wasn’t much he could do either. In the end, he chose to turn a blind eye and pretend not to know. ɌÅɴȎꞖƐs̩

But he hadn’t expected the bad news to come so quickly. In such a short time, the Moto commander had collapsed. What’s worse, the Moto race claimed they couldn’t find a suitable replacement who could command respect.

Were they treating him like a fool? In a state of war, they were telling him they couldn’t find a replacement? Shouldn’t the deputy commander take over if the commander is gone? And if the deputy is gone, the highest-ranking officer present should step up? This should continue until the last man standing?

This was clearly an excuse!

But he quickly understood the Moto race’s dilemma. What was the purpose of this big show they were putting on? Even this play was directed by the commander himself, all to extricate himself from that awkward position.

Now their plan had succeeded, and in this wartime state, even if they wanted to hold someone accountable, it would have to wait until after the war. So now, this awkward problem had landed in his lap. The flanks couldn’t be left without a commander. Who should take over now?@@novelbin@@

The battlefield was ever-changing. While the coalition commander was still considering a replacement, the situation on the battlefield had already undergone a dramatic shift.

——

Without the Moto commander’s leadership, whether intentionally or under secret orders, the Moto fleet at the front suddenly collapsed.

A large number of warships retreated from the battlefield, exposing the other races’ forces that had been hiding in the rear. Reluctantly, these forces had to engage in combat. At the same time, accusations were hurled at the Moto commander.

But the news they received was that the Moto commander had vomited blood and collapsed, and his life was still in danger. When they heard this, they were stunned.

Is this even possible?

When they asked who was now in command, the Moto race replied that they didn’t know and were waiting for instructions from higher-ups. So, the accusations were redirected to the coalition commander.

However, this time, their tone was much more polite.

But now, the coalition commander was also troubled by this matter. He had privately consulted several qualified individuals, but all of them had declined for various reasons.

Perhaps before the war, everyone would have fought for this position. But now, it was clearly a hot potato, and everyone was avoiding it.