The moment that voice rang out, it stirred up a tempest. Everyone instinctively turned their gaze toward the source of the sound, each mind wondering who possessed such audacity as to openly challenge the Minister of Defense on military matters.

Enveloped by the collective stare was Bernard, the Minister of Propaganda. He was a gaunt old man in his fifties, already showing signs of significant hair loss; a palm-sized patch of smooth scalp shone bare atop his head, encircled by a fringe of sparse, graying white hair.

Marshal Duncan’s eyes flashed with a sharp light as he fixed his gaze on Bernard and demanded, “Three months? What do you mean? To reorganize the military and march on Saturn within three months—that is suicide!”

Marshal Duncan was furious. He had served in the military for half a century, earning his Marshal rank through hard-won achievements. When had he ever needed someone outside the military establishment to teach him his trade?

Bernard offered a sly smile, holding both hands up defensively before him. “Calm your temper, Old Marshal. I naturally have my reasons for saying so.”

“You, Bernard!” Marshal Duncan snorted. “What possible considerations could you, who knows nothing of warfare, possess? Let’s hear them. My projection of six months was derived from comprehensive intelligence, established upon verifiable evidence. If you cannot offer any constructive suggestions, hmph…”

Bernard leaned forward slightly, a slight smile playing on his lips. “My understanding of military strategy is naturally far inferior to the Marshal’s. If you require an explanation of my three-month timeline from a military perspective, then I cannot provide one.”

Marshal Duncan’s eyes widened, ready to erupt.

“Wait. Minister Duncan, this is not the Earth Military Headquarters, but the Ministerial Council meeting. Please allow me to finish.” Bernard’s tone shifted abruptly. “My suggestion to attack Saturn within three months is not baseless. Though my rationale has nothing to do with military logistics, it is deeply tied to the interests of everyone present. Do you recall what date falls three months from now?”

The Minister of Industry suddenly interjected, “Could it be the general election?”

“Precisely,” Bernard confirmed, nodding firmly. He then used the electronic system to transmit a file to the display screens before each minister.

As the ministers reviewed the document, the color drained from many of their faces.

Bernard leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms leisurely. “You have all seen it. Does it look familiar? Understandable! This document was distributed to everyone last month. This is the public opinion poll taken before the Jovian Campaign began. The results showed public support for this administration at nineteen percent—not even one-fifth—while sixty-five percent, nearly two-thirds, considered our government untrustworthy. Furthermore, sixteen percent remained undecided. The reason for this state of affairs is clear: during our term, we lost the Twin Star defense line and the entirety of the Outer Solar System, one after the other!”

“That’s the best-case scenario. When the Outer Solar System fell half a year ago, the public nearly impeached this government. We barely survived that, but it pushed us right to the brink. Those despicable opposition parties pinned the blame for the defeats squarely on us, lambasting us publicly, while adopting a hardline stance and offering nothing but empty promises about reclaiming lost territory to win public favor. This caused their approval ratings to soar far above ours. If this trend continues, we are certain to suffer a crushing defeat in the next election, and it might take another decade to recover!”

It should be noted here that the United Earth Government operated under a **system, where ministers were not elected as individuals but were nominated by the majority party and confirmed by the Assembly; public opinion was inextricably linked to their tenure.

As Bernard spoke, the expressions of several ministers grew increasingly grim. They understood perfectly that being driven from the political stage, branded with the indelible stain of military defeat, would leave them with no chance of a political comeback.

Bernard gave a slight smile and transmitted another file electronically to the group. “However, things have taken a turn. You can see here—this is the latest public opinion survey. Following the victory in the Jovian Campaign, our support has risen to thirty-three percent, with opponents dropping to forty-seven percent, and twenty percent remaining on the fence. Successfully retaking Jupiter has shifted public perception; even those opposition clowns have quieted down considerably.”

The faces of several ministers who had been particularly worried began to relax.

“But it’s not enough!” Bernard suddenly boomed, sitting upright and projecting his voice. “It is an undeniable fact that the entire Outer Solar System fell under our watch. Recapturing Jupiter alone cannot compensate for everything. Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune remain in the hands of those filthy simians! The opposition will seize on this relentlessly. They are quiet now only because the news of the Jupiter victory has not yet faded, and the atmosphere of public jubilation is still high. But by the time the general election arrives in three months, the excitement will have cooled. They will use this very issue to attack us, and we will have no defense! Unless…”

Bernard surveyed the room, his voice growing more impassioned. “Unless we present the populace with more victories! According to the analysis by my propaganda experts, if we can recapture Saturn before the election, coupled with strategic messaging, our public support can easily exceed fifty-five percent! The people will believe we can reclaim our lost ground, and they will cast their votes for us. As for the opposition… ha! Let them go to hell!”

The eyes of most present lit up, clearly intrigued by Bernard’s proposal.

Marshal Duncan, however, glared, his eyes blazing with intense light, like a battle-hardened tiger roaring at Bernard’s face. It was hard to believe such an old man possessed such fierce vitality. Bernard felt a palpable wave of killing intent radiating from those eyes and instinctively wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

Marshal Duncan emitted a low growl from his throat. “Bernard, is that your consideration? Do you treat military matters like children playing house? To showcase victory before the public within three months—do you think that can be achieved by mere talk? For the sake of your re-election, are you willing to place the lives of our frontline soldiers onto the gambling table?”

A barrage of sharp questions erupted from Marshal Duncan, hammering toward Bernard. Bernard managed a strained smile and replied, “Marshal, you yourself have stated that the longer we wait, the more entrenched the defenses of the Ancient Legions become. Wouldn’t attacking them sooner be advantageous for us as well?”

Marshal Duncan slammed his hand on the table and roared, “Someone as utterly ignorant of military science as you has no standing to discuss advantage or disadvantage with me! If they aren't prepared in three months, we are even less prepared! A new recruit must spend at least three months in a training camp, during which they must build physical stamina, familiarize themselves with various equipment, and master different tactics. After leaving the camp and arriving at their operational posts, they require at least another month of adjustment to let the veterans teach them what to do in the event of an emergency. The performance of an experienced soldier versus a rookie on the battlefield is incomparable; inexperience often leads new recruits to cause more harm than good. If we truly intend to attack Saturn in three months, then any recruits enlisted starting now will be completely useless. In three months, we won’t have trained enough new personnel, nor will our equipment be fully replenished…”

Minister Duncan systematically listed every disadvantage of commencing hostilities in three months. The eager expressions of several ministers gradually turned hesitant.

When it was Bernard’s turn to speak again, seeing nearly half the ministers siding with Marshal Duncan, he felt his position becoming precarious. If he failed to secure two-thirds of the necessary votes during the subsequent ballot, the proposal to engage in three months would fail.

Bernard glanced again at Marshal Duncan, noting the old man’s absolute rigidity regarding the six-month timeline. Bernard cursed inwardly, “The old coot, with his military background, could remain Minister of Defense even under a different administration. I, however, have no second chance. It seems I must resort to drastic measures. Old man, don't blame me!” He opened his mouth and said, “I request a recess of half an hour.”

Several ministers seconded the motion, and the request for adjournment was passed. They required time to contemplate the crisis and opportunity this matter presented.

Upon exiting the council room, Bernard detained the Minister of Construction and the Minister of Industry, giving them a significant look. The two nodded slightly and followed Bernard into a small adjoining room. The rooms here were well soundproofed, requiring no worry about eavesdropping—perfect for a private discussion.

Bernard locked the door and addressed the two men. “The situation is clear: if we do not fight this battle within three months, we are guaranteed to lose the election and forever be cursed with the shame of losing three planets. However, fighting within three months, as the Old Marshal just said, is a gamble, not an absolute defeat—we still have a chance to win, don’t we? Victory secures our re-election. Then, in the next term, we can rebuild our image and secure a respectable remainder of our careers.”

The Minister of Construction frowned. “But three months is certainly less secure than six. The risk of defeat is high, and if we lose, we’ll likely be impeached immediately.”

Bernard sneered. “Cowards. Three months from now, whether we are impeached or lose the election, what is the difference to us? Defeat means our downfall; inaction also means our downfall. The reality at this point is glaringly obvious. There is only one path to survival open to us: reclaiming Saturn! Wake up! This battle might lead to defeat, but not fighting is certain failure!”

“This…” The Minister of Construction and the Minister of Industry exchanged glances, hesitated briefly, and then both nodded.

“Very well. You two are intelligent people and know what benefits us. Marshal Duncan has grown old and obstinate. If I were to be so blunt in the council meeting, I fear he might physically attack me. For now, that is enough. I must use the remaining time to speak with the others…”

Bernard knew he had swayed the two ministers and displayed a victorious smile. After bidding them farewell, he moved on to lobby the remaining ministers.