Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [319]
Added 2025-02-19 06:53:34 +0000 UTCThe starry sky stretched infinitely, the only illumination coming from distant stars, their flickering light outlining the shapes of celestial bodies.
Aboard a transport ship hidden within an imaginary-space phase, inside a pristine observation room, Clara was enthusiastically recounting the development process of her new weapon.
"The Theta-class plasma acts as a stabilizer, preventing the antimatter warhead from releasing unnecessary energy due to extreme heat and pressure, effectively solving the instability problem. Then, by integrating it with a large-scale cutting laser originally designed for hydraulic fracturing in planetary core mining… Clara thought, what if we detonated a sufficient amount of antimatter inside the planetary core…?"
The Jarilo sector had yet to develop a strategic-level weapon of mass destruction. Before Little Koschei appeared, Chen Lin had already brought up this issue with Clara.
He had encouraged her to focus on star-destroying weaponry for battleship-class deployment, even providing several conceptual ideas—including those that directly targeted planetary cores.
That said, Chen Lin hadn’t placed much hope in it. Even with supporting advancements in other technological fields, developing an extinction-class weapon using mere orbital bombardment techniques was like asking a civilization still experimenting with gunpowder to manually assemble a nuclear bomb.
Since the relevant tech trees hadn’t been unlocked yet, Chen Lin had no way to teach Clara how to build colossus-class weaponry. The most he could do was offer her ideas, using his foresight into future technologies to guide her efforts.
So, in truth, this achievement was Clara’s own. Chen Lin had little to do with it.
Using a modified large-scale laser cutter to bore into the planet’s surface, then deploying a high-yield antimatter warhead near the core and detonating it…
It was genius!
Clara made it sound simple, but only she and the research teams involved knew how many failed attempts, wasted resources, and grueling hours had been endured before they finally arrived at a viable solution.
They were the ones who had put in the effort from start to finish.
Before long, the transport ship and the bomb-carrying cruiser reached their designated location. The two planets selected for testing lay just beyond Jarilo’s home system, having been specifically modified for the experiment.
The first planet had been terraformed to mimic conditions suitable for organic life. Its atmosphere remained intact, its parameters adjusted to simulate an enemy civilization’s homeworld as closely as possible.
The second planet had been adapted to resemble an inorganic environment, with large sections of its surface covered in thick layers of steel—meant to test the weapon’s penetration capability.
Chen Lin observed the planets, his expression serious. "This weapon is deployed from low orbit?"
Through the observation room’s monitoring displays, he had a full view of the two transport ships and the cruiser docking nearby. Onboard, researchers and Psionic Guards were methodically assembling the weapon along deployment rails.
The new weapon resembled standard ship-borne bombs used in orbital bombardments. It was a massive, conical warhead, roughly 400 meters long and 150 meters wide at its broadest point—several times larger than conventional ground forces missiles.
Clara’s eyes flickered. She shrank back slightly, somewhat embarrassed.
"Brother is worried about interception?"
As the lead developer, Clara was well aware of the weapon’s vulnerabilities.
Chen Lin nodded. That was exactly what he was concerned about.
A bomb deployed from low orbit might work against primitive civilizations, but against a technologically advanced world? The fleet would likely be detected long before reaching deployment altitude.
If the enemy was prepared, anything launched from orbit could be intercepted mid-air, detonated thousands of meters above the ground. The chances of a successful impact were slim.
Unless sheer volume could overwhelm defenses.
But if mass deployment was the only solution, wouldn’t that be too inefficient? Aside from the enormous resource consumption, even the deployment ships could be caught in the blast radius of their own antimatter payloads—far too risky.
"Clara thought about that too," she said, fidgeting with her fingers in frustration. "At first, I tried using the best propulsion systems to shorten the descent time. But even then, it would still take about seven minutes to reach the surface… and the high frequency of zero-point energy fluctuations makes it easier to detect, increasing the risk…"
Chen Lin asked, "What’s the optimal deployment altitude?"
"…Hmm."
Clara pulled up her terminal, scrolling through the data. "The ideal altitude is 50 kilometers. That gives the engines enough time to fully ignite, while also leaving just over half a minute for the cutting laser to preheat—ensuring maximum penetration depth. At that height, most interceptors wouldn’t be able to react in time."
Having a weapon of mass destruction was one thing.
Being able to actually deliver it onto an enemy’s planet was another matter entirely.
If it couldn’t reach its target, no matter how powerful the bomb was, it would be useless.
But since Chen Lin had brought up the issue, he already had a few potential solutions in mind.
"If I place it directly at the 50-kilometer altitude, can it still detonate properly?"
"Yes," Clara explained. "The trigger mechanism doesn’t activate on impact—it needs to detect a specific radiation threshold to arm itself. Alternatively, it can be remotely triggered, as long as the cutting laser finishes preheating before impact."
"Then I should be able to position it exactly where it needs to be," Chen Lin said, his tone confident. "By using The Shroud to compress the spatial distance."
His first thought was to leverage The Shroud’s coordinate-based teleportation system. After all, planetary defense systems could detect incoming warships, track their orbital bombardment deployments, and use specialized combat algorithms to calculate interception points—allowing them to destroy the warheads mid-flight.
But The Shroud's teleportation had no deployment process. Or rather, the deployment process was instantaneously cut off—effectively reducing the travel distance to nearly zero. This would make interception dramatically more difficult.
That said, Chen Lin wasn’t entirely certain he could construct a Gate large enough to accommodate such a massive warhead. Nor was he sure whether the bomb would malfunction due to the unique properties of The Shroud. It would all have to be tested first.
If it worked, the last major weakness of planet-killer weapons would be eliminated—making strategic deterrence a real possibility.
Because really, who wouldn’t be terrified if a few extinction bombs suddenly materialized over their homeworld?
Clara knew about The Shroud. She had even been there a few times with Chen Lin. It was a truly bizarre place where physical laws constantly shifted.
But she didn’t like the idea of her brother personally going to the front lines—let alone handling an antimatter bomb that could, at any moment, unleash catastrophic energy within The Shroud.
"…Clara will think of another solution. Okay?" She tugged at Chen Lin’s sleeve, her voice soft. "It’s too dangerous."
Just a single gram of antimatter annihilating with an equal amount of matter would unleash enough energy to obliterate a modern city. And Clara had packed a full 4,600 grams of antimatter into this warhead!
In truth, such a massive yield wasn’t even necessary to destabilize a planetary core. But to ensure an absolute kill, Clara had set the minimum detonation threshold to over a hundred times what was actually required—guaranteeing that no planet’s core could withstand the explosion.
Worried about insufficient penetration, she had even installed three large laser cutters on the bomb’s nose. Even if one or two overheated and failed, the third would continue drilling.
Still, blindly experimenting with an unstable deployment method was too reckless.
Chen Lin nodded calmly. "Alright."
He would run a few tests once they returned. If everything checked out, then he would take action himself.
Clara studied his composed expression and knew that, while her words had some effect, it wasn’t much.
Brother has always been the type to lead by example…
Both of them were lost in their own thoughts, neither speaking further.
...
The assembly process was swift. In just half an hour, the completed bomb was loaded onto the launch rails and attached to the cruiser’s underbelly. Once secured, the ship slowly moved into its designated orbital position above the test planet, awaiting deployment.
After confirming that all monitoring equipment was properly installed and functioning without issues, the countdown for the planetary core bomb test began.
"10..."
"9..."
"8..."
"..."
"2..."
"1..."
"Deploy!"
The cruiser, a massive vessel resembling a floating city, suddenly opened its launch bay. The bomb, securely locked into its deployment rig, was released smoothly.
The conical warhead spun a few times before its engines ignited. Theta-class plasma energy filled the warhead chamber, stabilizing the matter-antimatter payload within.
Whoosh—!
Like a miniature rocket, the bomb shot toward the planet’s surface at high velocity. Meanwhile, following the prearranged sequence, the cruiser activated its warp engine the instant it completed deployment, jumping to the second test planet in mere moments before releasing the second bomb.
From the observation room, first-person camera feeds displayed both warheads in descent. The vacuum zero-point engines provided immense thrust—despite being deployed from a low orbit altitude of 1,100 kilometers, the bombs were accelerating at nearly one kilometer per second right out of the launch bay.
In actual combat, dropping bombs from such close range was unrealistic, which was why Clara had accounted for an estimated seven-minute descent time in her calculations—more in line with real battlefield conditions.
Three minutes into freefall, the warheads had shed their excess weight, transitioning from bulky giants to sleek, needle-like projectiles. Auxiliary modules detached automatically, leaving only a few protective layers and the laser cutting mechanisms intact.
On the planet with an atmosphere, the designated impact zone was a rocky plateau. On the planet simulating inorganic life conditions, the bomb was aimed at a location where the steel-reinforced planetary crust was 12 kilometers thick.
One might have expected such barriers to slow the warheads significantly, but the cutting lasers drilled cleanly through in an instant. Even the descent speed remained largely unaffected.
Inside the monitoring station, researchers reported real-time diagnostics.
"A1, A2, and A3 surface erosion at 0.2137%. Within acceptable limits, minimal wear detected."
"Descent kinetic energy reduced by 27%. Backup thrusters automatically engaged, compensating at a rate of 1% per second—within normal parameters…"
Clara remained glued to the cluster of screens in front of her. Picking up a communicator, she gave the final directive:
"Estimated time to planetary core impact: 20 seconds. All vessels, activate shields to protect against incoming radiation bursts. Imperial Research Institute, all teams, prepare for data collection!"
"Roger that!"
"Confirmed!"
"…"
Chen Lin crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the planetary displays. Without realizing it, he was holding his breath.
On-screen, the countdown ticked toward zero…
All ships, including the transport vessels, were enveloped in layers of psionic and energy shields, forming a protective barrier around their hulls. Inside, the previously bright white corridors were suddenly bathed in an ominous red glow.
The next moment—
A single spark of fire appeared at the planet’s edge. Like a dry twig tossed into a bonfire, it erupted into an expanding inferno.
Since this was a controlled test to gather data, the participating fleet wasn’t stationed too far from the blast site—only about 250,000 kilometers away. The monitoring equipment, however, had been positioned much closer, hovering in low orbit.
Even from this distance, the fiery eruption was apocalyptic.
Just as expected—
The moment that single spark ignited, searing flames spread outward in a visible shockwave.
Chen Lin stepped onto the observation deck, his genetically enhanced vision allowing him to see details beyond normal human perception. Across the planet’s surface, deep red fissures spider-webbed outward, entire sections of the crust detonating in massive chunks.
Within just ten minutes, the two pristine test planets had been reduced to scorched wastelands. Large sections of their surfaces began to collapse, breaking away into drifting debris.
The explosion’s brilliance even brightened the surrounding space.
The planets didn’t completely shatter—but structurally, they were beyond salvation.
Watching a planet die with his own eyes, Chen Lin found himself at a loss for words. The overwhelming spectacle left him speechless, as it did for the researchers, Psionic Guard members, and Psionic Legion soldiers observing alongside him.
For the scientists, the impact was somewhat mitigated—they had run countless simulations and expected this outcome. But witnessing it firsthand still left them in awe.
For a long moment, silence blanketed all communication channels.
Then, about ten seconds later, the radio erupted into cheers.
The successful detonation of the planetary core bomb meant that the Jarilo sector now possessed its own world-killer weapon.
It wasn’t perfect, and there were still flaws to address—but for deterrence?
It was more than enough.
...
While the test team celebrated, far beyond the Jarilo sector, alarms blared across a research planet operated by an interstellar peacekeeping organization.
As technicians scrambled to shut down the alerts, they traced the cause of the anomaly—unexpected readings from their deep-space monitoring equipment.
To their shock, sensors had detected evidence of a mysterious planetary explosion… originating from within the Empire’s claimed territories in the Jarilo sector.
Even though the event had occurred hundreds of light-years away, the residual radiation wave had reached their monitoring systems, triggering automated warnings.
The department head immediately escalated the matter, and eventually, the report landed in Topaz’s hands. Headquarters was already calling, demanding an explanation for the anomalous radiation surge in the Jarilo sector.
Topaz looked at the recently acquired footage.
On her desk sat the official documents Chen Lin had asked Pela to prepare for this exact scenario—to be used in dealing with corporate inquiries.
But instead of reading from the documents, her gaze lingered on the final few lines. After a brief moment of consideration, she adjusted her tone to one of innocent confusion and responded:
"The Empire says they were just testing a new mining technique. Maybe the monitoring data from Titi System is faulty?"
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T/N: yes the empire wouldnt do anything bad yesyesyes
This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!