Zhao Chen didn't hesitate.
This was the ship he had been waiting for.
In any era—whether planetary navies or interstellar fleets—two classes of warships were universally acknowledged as giants.
Interstellar battleships.
And aircraft carrier starships.
In his previous life, aircraft carriers had been the ultimate symbol of national power. In this interstellar age, their status had not diminished in the slightest.
Zhao Chen selected the option without a trace of doubt.
[Exchange Confirmation]
Consume 250 system points and one free T2 exchange privilege to redeem:
T2 Queen Bee–class Heavy Aircraft Carrier Starship
Confirm?
"Confirmed."
[Redemption Successful]
Technical drawings acquired: T2 Queen Bee–class Heavy Aircraft Carrier Starship
Remaining system points: 0
A surge of information flooded Zhao Chen's mind.
Hull segmentation.
Drone deployment algorithms.
Hangar logistics.
Energy distribution curves.
It was not merely a starship.
It was an ecosystem.
Zhao Chen's breathing quickened as the system-generated data fully unfolded.
Queen Bee–class Heavy Aircraft Carrier Starship
Ship Type: Aircraft Carrier Starship
Technology Level: T2
Hull Armor Strength: 300–350 Units
Cruising Speed: 40 knots
Warp Engine: Level 4
Length: 460 meters
Mass: 400,000 tons
Crew Requirement: 100
Standard Armament (Drone-Based):
• T2 Hatchling-class Light Interstellar Drones (Interceptors) ×300
• T2 Killer Bee–class Medium Interstellar Drones (Fighters) ×100
• T2 Bumblebee–class Heavy Interstellar Drones (Bombers) ×20
Special System: Star Shield (Directional Energy Defense)
Just looking at the raw parameters made Zhao Chen's scalp tingle.
At 460 meters, the Queen Bee was nearly twice the length of Blizzard Zero.
At 400,000 tons, it outweighed it by nearly five times.
And that was before factoring in its true weaponry.
Aircraft carrier starships were, by nature, dependent on escort fleets. Without destroyers and cruisers screening them, they were little more than oversized targets.
That was common sense.
But the Queen Bee was different.
It fought with interstellar drones—fully unmanned, remotely coordinated combat units.
Three layers.
Interceptors to defend the carrier and intercept incoming fire.
Fighters to seize space superiority and harass enemy vessels.
Bombers to deliver devastating anti-ship strikes.
More importantly—
It possessed a Star Shield.
An energy defense system normally reserved for T3 starships.
This single feature overturned doctrine.
With a star shield absorbing frontal attacks and drone swarms handling offense and defense simultaneously, the Queen Bee could operate independently.
No escort fleet required.
Against T3 fleets, it would be risky.
Against T2 fleets?
It would be a nightmare.
"One ship," Zhao Chen murmured, eyes burning. "Against many."
That was exactly what he needed.
Then reality intruded.
Zhao Chen calculated the construction cost.
"1.3 million star coins…"
His fingers paused.
The entire Zhao family's liquid savings didn't even reach 100,000.
His hereditary territory—a barren single-star system without stargates—generated barely one million star coins per year in taxes and miscellaneous income.
That was why Zhang Haoran had called him a poor baron.
He couldn't even afford a standard T2 destroyer.
And yet—
If a Queen Bee–class heavy aircraft carrier appeared on the open market, its value would easily exceed twenty to thirty million star coins.
Arms trading had always been the fastest road to wealth.
But Zhao Chen didn't have the luxury of time—or exposure.
Not yet.
"Once the Wolf Lice design sells," he muttered, "it'll be enough.
"Just enough."
Now, all that remained—
Was to wait for Li Wei.
Beiyan Interstellar Trade Group — Headquarters
A tense board meeting was underway.
"For five consecutive years, the starship arms division has been bleeding money," a middle-aged director snapped, slamming his palm on the table.
"It's dragged down our overall profits and forced our logistics division to compensate!
"I propose we terminate the starship arms trade immediately and return to our core businesses."
Several directors nodded in agreement.
"Starship manufacturing isn't something amateurs can play with," another added coldly. "The R&D costs are astronomical. The risks are uncontrollable."
"No."
A clear, resolute voice cut through the room.
A woman stood.
Tall, elegant, and strikingly beautiful—Li Yaqi.
"If Beiyan continues to rely solely on transportation and industry," she said steadily, "we've already hit our ceiling.
"Competition is tightening every year. Margins are shrinking.
"If we don't seize a new core technology, Beiyan will decline."
She looked around the table, eyes unwavering.
"The starship arms trade is our breakthrough."
A senior director snorted. "Ms. Li, you don't get to decide that.
"The Li family holds only 45% of the shares now. The board majority opposes you.
"This resolution stands."
Li Yaqi clenched her fingers under the table.
She said nothing.
But her eyes burned.
For ten years, she had poured everything into this division.
While others saw five years of losses—
She saw a decade of preparation.
Missed youth.
An unmarried life in her thirties.
Abandoned comforts.
All for this path.
I won't let it end like this, she swore silently.
At that moment—
Her personal terminal vibrated.
A message.
From her younger brother.
With an encrypted attachment.
Li Yaqi froze.
For reasons she couldn't explain…
Her heart began to race.