Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [369]

The Empire’s Governor had already been stationed on Luofu for some time. He regularly attended open conferences with the Luofu’s Six Commissions, the proceedings of which were, naturally, reported on by the interstellar press corps—including embedded reporters from the Interastral Peace Corporation and various other foreign media outlets.

The collapse of the Corporation’s branch on Luofu had been officially ruled by Pierpoint as a case of “branch director’s poor decision-making.” The issued directives failed to properly account for the unique circumstances on Luofu, sticking rigidly to outdated operational procedures, mindlessly executing orders without innovation or adaptation. The director was found severely lacking in creativity and initiative.

Ultimately, the branch director was dealt with by the Corporation. His rank remained unchanged at P35, but he was transferred across departments laterally—from Business Consolidation to Traditional Projects.

Barring any miracles, this man—who had once worked his whole life hoping for a chance at corporate headquarters—was now fated to spend the rest of his career on some remote fringe planet’s outpost. He became one of the first casualties of the ongoing political struggle.

But this minor drama stirred barely a ripple in the wider public—because everyone’s eyes were fixed on the high-level talks between Luofu’s Six Commissions and the Governor of Jarilo. The content of those meetings touched nerves across countless worlds, reminding the galaxy once again that only shared interests truly bind civilizations together.

September 25th.

The heads of the Six Commissions and Jarilo’s Governor convened a comprehensive summit covering military, political, economic, social, and cultural matters. The significance of this meeting was evident from the presence of four Judges dispatched directly by the Department of Ten Lords.

During the conference, the Strategic Council’s military advisors disclosed data related to the L-Gate frontline. After several months of battle under the Jarilo government’s command, the Luofu fleet had suffered catastrophic losses—nearly 47% casualty rates, with hundreds of Xianzhou warships destroyed. Issues with supply line logistics were also publicly acknowledged.

The moment this information was revealed, the press—live broadcasting the event—erupted in shock.

A few years ago, it was the Jarilo Sector that had first introduced the concept of interstellar naval warfare in theoretical form. Before that, only a handful of civilizations had ever fielded full spacefaring fleets, and even fewer possessed the advanced propulsion technology required.

Even when such engines existed, most were used for trade, not war. Civilizations capable of building large-scale military fleets remained exceedingly rare.

The Xianzhou were something of an exception. Their inherent cultural traits, combined with their belief in the Hunt and Abundance, had driven them to invest in fleet development. Today, all six surviving Xianzhou ships possessed notable deep-space combat capabilities.

Among them, the Luofu had the closest ties to Jarilo. Especially under Governor Chen Lin’s leadership, the alliance had left significant marks—both internally and externally—for any civilization with a conscience.

Considering the long cultural and historical legacy of the Xianzhou, it wasn’t surprising that they could put aside past biases in the face of existential threats and adapt for the greater good.

No one was shocked that Luofu had dispatched a fleet to aid Jarilo in their campaign against the L-Gate.

However, given the devastating losses, the Strategic Council decided to temporarily pull back its support units from the frontline for rest and reorganization. They also called on other civilizations to step up their contributions and assist Jarilo’s defense against this universal calamity.

As a central figure in the talks, Chen Lin remained composed. He emphasized that the situation was still under control, though the fighting had entered a prolonged stalemate. Heavy losses, he said, were only natural at this stage of the war.

Despite this, the Jarilo delegation formally requested that Luofu not withdraw its forces, and instead increase its military commitment—mobilizing new troops as swiftly as possible to reinforce the front.

The moment this statement was made, it was as if someone had lit the fuse on a powder keg. Panic swept through the crowd.

The joint efforts of Luofu and the Empire had not only failed to yield clear gains—they had left the Luofu fleet severely battered, forced to pull back just to recover…

Many sharp minds began connecting the dots to recent reports from the Interastral Peace Corporation, realizing that the Empire’s military push was starting to show signs of strain.

Commercial orders were pulled en masse. Civilizations that had previously rushed in to get a share of the war economy—despite the high prices—were now abandoning contracts outright, even forfeiting their deposits and fees just to cut their losses.

After all, the deposit was only 15% of the contract’s total value. Even with associated fees, the losses were manageable.

The ones who couldn’t back out were the smaller civilizations. Many had banked everything on a single contract. What was a minor setback for some was an existential blow to them.

They had no choice but to gamble on the Empire’s victory.

If the Empire won, they could fulfill the contracts as planned. If it lost, their civilizations would fall into famine and war, possibly never to recover.

But the party most blindsided was the Interastral Peace Corporation.

When Pierpoint received the news, he immediately summoned department heads for an emergency meeting—Topaz in Belobog included, via remote connection.

“Damn it! This isn’t what we agreed on! What the hell is the Empire doing?! Even if they’re losing, this kind of thing shouldn’t be said out loud!”

That probably summed up what many executives were thinking.

But if the Empire truly fell, the Corporation’s losses could be the worst it had suffered in a thousand Amber Eras—hence the pounding in their skulls.

The board convened to vote.

Oswaldo, head of Expansion, put forth a “radical draft,” but it was overwhelmingly rejected. Instead, the draft from veteran project director Zaida passed easily.

Zaida’s reasoning was simple.

“Heh... That Governor doesn’t seem like some honest, straightforward kid. I bet he’s playing a deeper game behind the scenes. In business, the first one to eat the crab might fill their belly—but they’re just as likely to get poisoned. Not worth it.”

After deliberation, the Corporation chose to play it safe—neutral, non-provocative.

They began liaising with the Qlipoth Fort, organizing transport convoys and consolidating resources to send as free aid to Jarilo.

Simultaneously, the Corporation ordered its warships across multiple star sectors to regroup. Headquarters warned all affiliated civilizations to behave, brace for the worst, and prepare for a full-scale military disaster—just in case the Jarilo war effort did collapse.

Regardless of the outcome, they had to be ready.

The Company moved with thunderous efficiency. Zaida’s argument had struck a chord.

Most executives had their own ways of gathering intel from Jarilo. That broader view was exactly why they had quietly killed Oswaldo’s proposal without much fuss.

At their level, they all understood—news was just about what was new. Everything else could be manufactured. There was no need to stir up trouble for a few headline moments and suffer long-term losses.

Harmony is good for business.

Back on Luofu, the summit was still underway. But behind closed doors, word had already begun to leak into the ears of a select few. Similar scenes to Pierpoint’s were unfolding across the galaxy, with different people reacting based on the scent of the wind—some making the same calls, some taking drastically different routes.

---

Within the Strategic Council—

Hours after the summit ended and the media had dispersed, Chen Lin reviewed the skyrocketing stats on his [Intelligence Log]. The fish he’d been baiting were finally biting.

He just didn’t know how many other fish would be drawn to the same hook.

After all, no matter how close Luofu and Jarilo were, they were still distinct civilizations. With nearly half their fleet lost, Luofu had more or less paid its dues in full. Everything going forward was pure interest and political maneuvering.

If profits could be made, all the better. If not, it didn’t matter. Luofu’s diplomatic credibility was solid—no one would complain openly, though there might be lingering resentment under the surface.

Fu Xuan sat composed at the table, frowning deeply at the chessboard before her.

At last, she sighed.

“I’ve lost again.”

"The Master Diviner still has plenty of room to grow. Perhaps in a few more years, even my dear brother and I won’t be able to match you."

Jing Yuan pushed the door open just as Fu Xuan let out a quiet sigh of frustration. Unfazed by her reaction, he offered a casual word of consolation before turning his gaze toward the young man seated opposite her.

"Are you sure you won’t stay a few more days, dear brother?"

Chen Lin rose and gently declined with a shake of his head.

"No need. Since things on Luofu are settled, it’s time I return to deal with our own… unripened peaches. I imagine Miss Huohuo’s enjoyed more than enough freedom these past few days—it’s about time she was locked up again."

Jing Yuan sighed with some guilt. "Alas, I’ve been buried in state affairs lately and had to rely on Fu Xuan to entertain you. I’d hoped for a proper chance to host you myself, once I found a spare moment. What a shame… If she was lacking in any way, I hope you’ll forgive us. Once things settle, let’s meet again."

"Of course. Since you and big sis are both busy, I’ll take my leave for now."

Chen Lin walked away at a leisurely pace, his figure fading into the depths of the Strategic Council’s halls. Jing Yuan watched him go with a bitter smile, already dreading the conversation he’d have to have with the Ten Lords Commission.

Will I have to be the bad guy again?

Jing Yuan sighed to himself.

The Luofu fleet really would be returning to report in, but only a small portion of it. Aside from the two commanders in this room, no one knew the truth behind the supposed "battle report"—the reality was that the Luofu forces had suffered only minor damage, barely even a handful of casualties.

The report had been falsified mainly to bait external powers. The Empire might tell its own lies—but Luofu would never risk taking on the full weight of interstellar public opinion just to play along with a deception.

Otherwise, what even was Luofu? Part of the Xianzhou Alliance—or the Empire’s lapdog?

From the report, it looked like Luofu had taken a massive hit—implying that the Empire was truly struggling. That alone would be enough to tempt the hidden vultures watching from the shadows to start circling.

And Jing Yuan knew—this was exactly the outcome Chen Lin had been angling for. But for now, he couldn’t be honest with the Ten Lords Commission, which left him with quite the headache.

Fine then. We’ll play it by ear. Let them sit and wait.

"General, I’ll take my leave as well," Fu Xuan said, rising to follow Chen Lin out.

But Jing Yuan stopped her with a raised hand.

"A moment, Fu Xuan. How have things progressed over the past few days?"

Fu Xuan paused mid-step, then drew a deep breath and answered with a hint of pride. "Hmph. In all endeavors, success lies in sincerity. Once I got serious, naturally I returned victorious."

"Oh?"

Jing Yuan raised an eyebrow. Judging by her tone, she wasn’t bragging—or lying.

Strange... Did I miss something? They both seem exactly the same as before.

"Fu Xuan, you’ve served diligently all these years. I’ve long regretted that I can’t pass my duties onto someone more capable. It weighs on me—I’ve lost more than a few nights’ sleep over it. Why not walk me through the details? If you missed anything, I can offer suggestions."

"Hmph."

Fu Xuan snorted twice, looking utterly pleased with herself. "Did you know, General, that my dear brother and I spent three nights together under the same roof, all the way till dawn? All his nightly movements were well within my expectations."

Jing Yuan furrowed his brows, thinking it over. "Was this... in the main hall of the Divination Commission?"

She shot him a withering look, clearly offended. "Of course not. In my quarters, naturally!"

Jing Yuan blinked.

He’d known Fu Xuan for a long time. He knew exactly what kind of person she was.

Despite her constant outbursts demanding he step down and her seemingly shameless confidence, Fu Xuan was actually as bashful as a maiden in a romance drama—raised in a traditional, aristocratic household that prized propriety above all.

His expression grew visibly conflicted.

He remembered once when Qingque had caused trouble and Fu Xuan stormed into the Strategic Council demanding to replace her. Jing Yuan had been confused—Qingque was Fu Xuan’s own handpicked successor, her personal protégé.

Generally speaking, as long as the successor had a decent character, strength, or background—and didn’t commit an egregious crime—the appointment was fixed.

Once he dug deeper into it, Jing Yuan was left half-laughing, half-crying.

Turns out, a batch of miscellaneous books Qingque had ordered included a few spicy illustrated novels, which Fu Xuan confiscated. Upon inspection, she’d nearly exploded with fury—accusing Qingque of indecency and shamelessness.

And this woman was now calmly recounting her nights spent with a man? So openly, at that?

Jing Yuan began imagining more plausible scenarios…

Meanwhile, Fu Xuan remained oblivious to his thoughts, hands on her hips, a rare pride lighting up her usually cold and composed face.

"My dear brother and I engaged in over a thousand rounds of fierce battle. Though wins were scarce and losses many, the insights I gained far outstripped anything I’ve earned in the past two hundred years!"

"Fu Xuan…"

"General, are you perhaps jealous of me?"

Jealous my ass!

Jing Yuan’s lips twitched. He stood there in stunned silence for several long seconds before finally managing to force out a strained smile.

"You never fail to impress, Fu Xuan."

---

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!