The assignnts themselves were simple—any one of them could handle them alone—but what really weighed on their minds was the test ahead.
The operation was too important to risk. One mistake, one wrong move, and Minotaur might realize they were being infiltrated.
If he raised the alarm, the entire mission would collapse, endangering not just their team but everyone else waiting outside the hangar and beyond. Caution wasn't just necessary—it was survival.
Inside the Stiletto's Hangar Bay, Captain David stood over the holographic tactical display in his combat suit. He was continuously monitoring the situation, while the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma teams ntally prepared themselves. This was the first live mission for all of them other than David, who was an original mber of the Void Fleet, while the others were recruits from Earth. They had trained for 100 years within the Galactic Domain under high-ranking Void Fleet officers and were masters in their own arts, so their ntal state was already exceptionally strong.
Breaking their contemplation, the Stiletto's AI voice cut in: "We are committed. Ten seconds to the Hangar Bay of the Taurus Pri. E-Hyper Stealth remains at 99.8 percent. No active sweeps detected yet."
"Nine seconds," Lieutenant Zena, the Captain of the Beta Squad, replied to the Stiletto, her fingers flying over the sensor board, locking out any feedback that might signal their approach—a necessary precaution.
Even though the Minotaur Dreadnoughts were focused entirely on the external threat posed by the Vanguard ships, their internal security was dangerously rigid and predictable, making it slow to adapt to any new threat. This was worsened by their dwindling strength, having lost countless ships, with many survivors barely functioning.
The Stiletto silently entered the force field outside the main Hangar Bay of the Taurus Pri. The bay was almost empty; only a few fighter jets and transport ships remained alongside equipnt dedicated to ergency repair and ammo refitting, and maintenance robots that appeared to be offline.
Just after entering, the Stiletto—thanks to the pilots' and the AI's combined effort—silently nestled itself behind a heavy combat craft shuttle. Its stealth field held firm even as the hull kissed the deck plating.
The hatch opened slowly with the sa silence as the landing.
As the hatch opened completely, all 150 prepared Space Marines, encased in their matte black combat suits, erged. Their suits, loaded with specialized equipnt, maintained their stealth, allowing them to move with a fluid, silent grace—truly living up to their division's na, the Shadows.
The mission had now entered its critical phase. As planned, they all divided instantly.
The Alpha Squad, led by Lieutenant Jax, moved first.
anwhile, the Minotaurs, still unaware that their death was approaching, were huddled together near the main door leading inside the Taurus Pri, chatting with nothing on their hands to do.
Jax's Alpha group imdiately split into five smaller teams as they moved toward the roughly two dozen Minotaurs. Operating under the cover of their combat suits' stealth fields, they silently surrounded the Minotaurs, taking cover behind large crates that likely held fighter jet supplies—jets that had probably already been taken down by the Vanguard forces.
Once all fifty Marines were in position, Jax ordered them to hold until the Beta Squad neutralized the ship's internal monitoring systems. Then, they would eliminate the Minotaurs in one coordinated attack.
On the opposite side, the Beta Squad, led by Lieutenant Zena, moved in. She escorted ten specialized Space Marines—masters of hacking—from her squad. Using the advanced speed of their combat suits, they moved into the maintenance tunnel flanking the Hangar in a matter of seconds.
The leader of the tech specialists, Lyra, established the first critical connection with the Taurus Pri's internal systems.
"Lyra to Stiletto: Initiating hacking sequences in three seconds. Injecting the Phantom Protocol. The Taurus Pri's main brain is about to see a show."
With that, Lyra and her team of nine others began deploying highly advanced nano frequency disruptor bots. These bots would distribute throughout the ship, disrupting all communication between the ship and the outside world in a few minutes at most. Simultaneously, they began injecting hyper-polymorphic malware into the Dreadnought's local nodes to gain even greater control.
The Minotaur's sophisticated internal security system, though designed to detect over-breachers, registered nothing despite the massive breach. This was the magic of the Phantom Protocol—a highly intelligent hacking system that, with minimal access, could disrupt the system's 'brain,' making it ignore all breaches it should have otherwise noticed and alerted others to.
The Taurus Pri's advanced internal system was, at this point, still reporting that everything was normal. With this, both the internal monitoring and communication systems began to ignore key security events. The Second Shadow Division had achieved one of its primary goals: remaining hidden while establishing a base for further operations.
The Alpha Squad, having received the go-ahead from Lieutenant Jax, opened fire first with silent precision.
The engagent was brief, brutal, and totally silent. Within a couple of seconds, the two dozen Minotaurs guarding the inner door of the Taurus Pri were taken care of. Their hyper-plasma weapons had such destructive capability that they were literally erased—not even ash remained.
Aboard the Command Bridge of the Taurus Pri, miles above the Hangar Bay, stood Admiral Thorax of the Minotaur Fleet. Though only one rank below the fleeing Commander Helran, Thorax was one of the few high-ranking officers who had not given up on this hopeless situation, making every effort to inflict damage on their enemy.
He paced back and forth across the Command Bridge, his boots scraping loudly across the tal deck in the tense silence. The main and countless secondary view screens showed the wholesale slaughter of their fleet in grueso detail.
"Status on the Starboard line, Captain Joran," Thorax rumbled, his voice low and grave with unrelenting rage.
"Sir," Captain Joran reported, "the Scylla (a Minotaur Battlecruiser deployed on the Starboard line) is venting plasma spears from its remaining main and secondary weapons, but the effects are negligible, just like the others. Battleship Astern was just pulverized under the strike of an enemy capital ship. Our entire battle line has suffered approximately 68 percent combat loss in the last hour, Admiral."
"This still unknown enemy is a higher class of predator. Their shields are so powerful that our attacks deal no damage at all. Their assaults, conversely, are so fast and precise we can neither lock on to neutralize them nor rotate our ships fast enough to evade the fire. That is the reality of our current state."
BOOOM! A sudden tremor shook the Dreadnought once again. While the shields held against the latest strike, the impact rattled the entire vessel and the Command Bridge with it.
"This is a disgrace to us and our racial pride," Thorax muttered, pacing the Command Bridge. "This unknown enemy—have we really found nothing about them after an hour of fighting? Who are they to fight with such surgical precision, with a level of technology where our most powerful weapons can't even dent their shields, much less their hulls? They butcher us like we are nothing at all! We've suffered catastrophic loss of assets and life, yet they stand tall with not a single loss…."
After a brief hesitation, a young Minotaur officer looking into enemy intelligence reported: "Admiral, after going through every accessible record, I've still found nothing about the enemy. But…," the officer trailed off.
Thorax caught the hesitation instantly. "But what? Speak clearly!" he demanded, fixing the young Minotaur with an intense gaze.
The young officer was visibly shaken by Thorax's intense gaze, which was unwittingly releasing the peak Paragon rank cultivation realm energy he possessed. Thorax canceled the energy out imdiately.
Only then did the officer manage to continue: "But there's one record I haven't gone through—a record that might tell us everything about this enemy!"
"Oh, is that so?" Thorax's eyes lit up, but his voice was still laced with unhappiness. "Why haven't you checked it? Go through it, quick now!"
Understanding the misunderstanding, the young Minotaur quickly explained: "Admiral, it's not that I ignored it; my authority isn't high enough to open those records. It demands higher clearance—like yours."
"Ah, so that's it." Thorax nodded in understanding, tossing a key card to the officer. "Here. You have my key card. That should open those records. Go on, check it quickly."
The young Minotaur caught the key card, nodded, and quickly inserted it into the holographic panel. The panel scanned the card, and a new docunt appeared, its previously locked symbol now gone. In bold red letters below the clearance window was the title: THE CATASTROPHE OF THE RIGID STAR (DANGEROUS).
The young Minotaur gulped, rembering the rumors about the destruction of the 7th Light Fleet, one of their clan's most powerful forces. The whispers claid an unknown enemy, numbering only one-tenth of the 7th Fleet, had suddenly invaded and utterly destroyed them.
Gulping again, he opened the docunt. Multiple data feeds flooded the panel, including an image of a captured Dreadnought, strikingly similar to the current enemy's ships, glowing with white energy.
He hastily exclaid, "Admiral, I have found sothing!"
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