Legacy of the Void Fleet

The three beams slammed directly into their hulls with a deafening roar, punching straight through the structures as the metal groaned and trembled violently.

Moments later, smaller yet immensely destructive beams of red and blue energy burst out from the opposite sides of the breached fortresses, screaming straight toward their tightly packed battle groups. The energy lances tore through several vessels before detonating kilometers deep within the warship formation.

It was as if three blazing suns had suddenly ignited—one colossal sphere of crimson and two smaller spheres of brilliant blue.

The exact same nightmare unfolded across the starboard quarter. Two Stellar Fortresses were pierced in identical fashion, followed immediately by the Lunar Fortress. The runaway energy drilled into their fleet line and detonated, swallowing another massive cluster of warships in a blinding shockwave.

All of this occurred in mere seconds, spanning no more than a couple of minutes. The assault was so blindingly fast that no one had time to react—and by the time they did, the devastation was already absolute.

Yet the onslaught was far from over. Near the shattered remains of the Lunar Fortresses on both the port and starboard flanks, enemy fleets numbering roughly one thousand ships each materialized, unleashing a relentless barrage upon the crippled defenses.

Worse still, they deployed massive swarms of mechs and starfighters toward their rear. Utilizing an unknown cloaking or displacement technology, the strike craft vanished from sensor coordinates for several seconds, only to reappear directly amidst their warship formation, tearing through the lines in an unbridled rampage.

Bang!

Dark Soul slammed his fist against the console, his fury and frustration boiling over. Dammit! How the hell did they pull that off? And how did their fleet get that close without triggering a single warning?

His mind raced, but his voice cracked like a whip across the bridge. "Dammit! What are you all standing around for?! Relay orders to the rear immediately! Tell them to scatter—break formation so they aren’t clustered together—and engage the enemy!" he commanded through gritted teeth.

The chief communications officer and the rest of the bridge crew snapped out of their stupor. A wave of relief washed over them; the Grand Marshal, who had seemed on the verge of losing his sanity, was no longer aiming his wrath at their necks. Daring not delay a single second, they rushed to their consoles and barked out commands.

"All rear warships, disperse immediately! Open up spacing and engage hostile targets!"

"Deploy all available starfighter and mech squadrons! Intercept the enemy strike craft and minimize fleet casualties at once!"

Another tactical officer chimed in over the fleet-wide channel, "Center and forward lines, push forward! Create breathing room for the rear armada! Center line, provide maximum fire support to the rear vanguard! Forward line, advance and exploit this opening to hammer the hostiles ahead—lay down continuous suppressing fire!"

As the bridge erupted into controlled chaos, Dark Soul’s expression shifted violently from bitter to grim, souring until he looked as though he had swallowed poison.

Inside his sea of consciousness, White Kalen was rolling over in hysterics, openly mocking Dark Soul’s predicament. The relentless taunting infuriated him to no end, yet he was completely powerless to silence him.

The grim reality weighed heavily on his shoulders: without him even realizing it, a massive portion of his fleet’s total combat power had been obliterated. With two Lunar Fortresses completely wiped out alongside four Stellar Fortresses, the armada’s overall combat strength had plummeted by a staggering twenty percent—while the enemy’s forces remained virtually untouched. It was, by every definition, the worst-case scenario.

Back on the rear line of the Republican armada, amidst the unfolding chaos, the Republican warships finally began to react. Slowly, they initiated evasive maneuvers to spread out, attempting to put as much distance between their sister ships as quickly as possible.

Yet, as they scrambled to disperse, Grand Admiral Mav and High Admiral Ritik’s fleets were not idle.

Whoosh!

Within one of the colossal motherships anchoring Mav’s fleet, starfighter after starfighter rocketed out of luminous sub-light launch tubes, hurling directly into the void of space at blistering speeds. Flight Commander Varek was slammed back into his pilot seat by the sheer G-force as his fighter instantly accelerated to sub-light velocity.

Moments later, his fighter and his wingmen decelerated, dropping out of transit just outside the perimeter of the Republican armada’s rear.

The dark expanse of space was violently illuminated by non-stop explosions. Republican starfighters and heavy mechs were already swarming through their rear lines, attempting to stabilize their crumbling formation.

To prevent them from picking apart his allies, Varek led his unit—the Obsidian Striker Wing—straight into the fray. All twenty-eight starfighters assumed their signature spearhead formation, surging toward a friendly squad currently being hounded by Republican strike craft and mechs.

"Damn these Republican fighters and mechs! Why won’t they get off my tail?!" cursed Mai of the Light Spear Striker Squadron.

She violently banked and rolled her craft to dodge incoming plasma fire.

Bang! Rumble!

Despite her evasive maneuvers, several stray beams clipped her hull.

[WARNING: Shield integrity down to 21 percent]

"Captain, think of something fast! If we lose shields, it’s bye-bye to our fighters and goodbye to our progress!" Mai shouted over the comms, urgency lacing her voice as she watched her shield levels plummet.

Flight Commander Ning was in no better position. Hearing Mai’s frantic transmission, she retorted through gritted teeth, "I know, Mai! I’m not in any better shape than the rest of you. These Republicans are absolute bastards—do they really have to cling to us like leeches?!"

Leading the charge of the Obsidian Striker Wing were four Phantom-class sub-light interceptors. Measuring roughly 25 meters in length, 18.7 meters in wingspan, and 5.4 meters in height, these sleek fighters were engineered for air-superiority, blinding speed, and surgical precision. Armed with heavy weaponry and specialized shield-breaker torpedoes capable of punching clean holes through energy barriers, they posed a lethal threat even to capital ships.

Flanking the formation were the Raptor-class starfighters. Smaller than the Phantoms, they were significantly faster and deadly against agile strike craft. Eight Raptors guarded the flanks—four on each side—while an additional six brought up the rear to form a protective rearguard.

At the center of the formation flew ten massive Bulwark-class heavy starfighters. These hulking bombers were equipped with dual frigate-class plasma cannons and Annihilation-class torpedoes, presenting an even greater destructive threat to enemy warships than the Phantoms.

"Samantha, Cathy—take the flanking Raptors, push ahead, and provide immediate fire support to the Light Spear Striker Squadron," Varek’s voice rang out across the neural comms to his wing commanders. "The rest of you, maintain course and follow my lead. Viper, watch our six and make sure no enemy interceptors catch us off guard. Bombers, prepare to unload your full payloads the moment our flanks return. We have a few enemy battlecruisers to sink."

Boom!

Another volley slammed into almost every craft in the Light Spear Squadron, shearing away yet another critical layer of defense.

[WARNING: Shield integrity down to 11 percent]

Seeing the alarm, every pilot’s face paled. Ning was no exception; she couldn’t help but curse under her breath, "Dammit all!"

Just then, a familiar signature flashed across her radar, accompanied by the distinct insignia of the Obsidian Wing. A flush of relief washed over Ning’s face, and she shouted over the fleet channel, "Everyone, hold on just a little longer! Our reinforcements are here!"

As her words echoed through the comms, the twenty-six surviving members of her squad—all teetering on the edge of elimination—felt a brief surge of hope. Still, not daring to let their concentration slip for even a fraction of a second, they continued weaving and crisscrossing through the void, evading whatever incoming fire they could.

The Republican force—nearly fifty starfighters and combat mechs in total—refused to let up. Surging forward aggressively, they unleashed one relentless barrage after another.

Just as the pursuit peaked—BOOM!

A blinding explosion ripped through the formation as several Republican fighters and a mech were blown to pieces. Only then did the enemy realize that reinforcements were swooping down upon them: six Raptor-class fighters diving in at extreme speeds.

"Dodge—!"

Before the warning could even clear the Republican comms, several more of their starfighters erupted into fireballs. Reacting instantly, the surviving Republican strike craft split up, breaking off their pursuit to engage the newly arrived threats.

"Dammit, you humans! Die!" roared a Republican mech pilot.

Somehow closing the distance in an instant, the mech materialized on the left flank of a Raptor, drew an energy saber, and slashed downward with lethal intent. But even at point-blank range, the Raptor’s twin thrusters flared with blinding acceleration, executing a high-G maneuver that cleanly evaded the blade.

Meanwhile, the Light Spear Squadron seized the opening. Capitalizing on the enemy’s sudden distraction, Ning’s squad banked hard into a sharp turn, unleashing a coordinated counterattack. Sandwiched between the Light Spear Squadron and the lethal fire support of the Obsidian Striker Wing, the Republican interceptors that had hounded them so relentlessly were rapidly wiped out to the very last unit.