But this was not that kind of battle.
Aurelian stood before the main tactical display and watched the first half-minute unfold into collapse.
They had hit the enemy before they could tell what was happening.
"Rhoswen," he said calmly, "go."
Crimson Bulwark moved like she had been waiting for permission to breathe.
She broke off at once and charged into the enemy flank, not toward a random target, but toward one of the larger battleship-type hulls that had survived the first barrage with enough structure left to matter.
This ti, she did not rush blindly.
She approached at an angle that ensured she hit the enemy’s heaviest guns cleanly.
Secondary batteries scraped against her shields, but they were aningless compared to what she was about to do.
Then the Tempest Ramspike struck.
The impact was savage.
The enemy ship’s weakened shields folded under the hit, and the ramspike bit deep enough into the hull that the entire Kharov vessel lurched sideways in formation, internal systems going unstable almost instantly.
Rhoswen followed up the impact with close-range fire and autonomous fra deploynt, turning one successful ram into a full kill sequence rather than wasting ti peeling away.
On the live feed, Aurelian could see the enemy ship trying to respond, trying to rotate major batteries onto her, trying to launch boarding units.
It never got the chance.
Its exposed sections were opened wider by her guns, its internal compartnts were torn through by boarding fras, and within monts, the entire vessel had lost the ability to fight back.
Solenne watched it happen and laughed softly under her breath.
"She really does love that ram too much."
"Yes," Aurelian said. "But now she’s using the rest of the ship too."
That was the important difference.
Rhoswen was no longer just smashing her way through a battlefield because the target annoyed her.
Now she was smashing correctly.
That made her far more dangerous.
Back in the enemy formation, panic spread.
Not all at once, but enough to cause others to follow suit.
Their larger ships had taken the first punishnt.
Their escorts had failed to cover them.
One of their heavy hulls had just been gutted at close range by a destroyer that had no right to be this troubleso by their local expectations.
And above all that, Solenne’s strike wings were still everywhere, turning any attempt at regrouping into another opportunity for slaughter.
The Kharov captains were better than the earlier orbital invaders at Larkspur Haven had been.
Aurelian could see that from how quickly so of them adapted.
Several surviving large ships managed to raise full shields at last.
So smaller formations began clustering in tighter defensive patterns.
Return fire beca more disciplined, and so of Solenne’s aircraft were finally lost in aningful numbers.
But by then, the worst damage was already done.
A weakened fleet could still be dangerous.
A half-decapped fleet with a broken opening and no ability to warp out was sothing else.
Lysara’s recharge cycle finished.
"Targets ready again," she reported.
Aurelian looked at the tactical display for one second, picked out the right cluster, and gave the order.
"The two remaining central capitals. Fire through the escorts if you have to."
"Understood."
Her second strike crossed the battlefield like judgnt.
This ti the Kharov ships did have shields, at least partially, but those shields had already been worn hard by Solenne’s earlier wave, and Lysara’s laser batteries were aid with the sa cold precision as before.
The beams bit into the weakened covers, burned through them, and carved into the ships beneath.
One capital vessel lost its entire forward structure.
Another had its side split open so deeply that reactors and internal decks flashed bare to vacuum.
Neither died imdiately.
Both ceased being useful.
Solenne took advantage of the instant the gap opened and sent a fresh wave into the wounded center.
The next few minutes were simply execution.
So Kharov ships tried to scatter.
So attempted surrender broadcasts.
So tried to push outward at full speed and escape the system under conventional engines, which was absurd with Solenne above them and Rhoswen still on the hunt.
Aurelian had already made the priority clear.
High-value ships would be crippled and captured where practical.
Everything else would be reduced until it no longer posed a threat.
By the ti the fleet finally stabilized enough to understand the scale of its losses, it was already over in everything but final cleanup.
Only two large capital ships remained combat-capable.
One of their captains opened a public surrender channel, voice strained but rational.
Another captain answered with pure fury, cursing him for cowardice and racial betrayal before trying to force one last resistance effort.
That effort lasted only a few more seconds.
Rhoswen, still close enough to sll weakness, hit the resisting ship with another brutal close assault, and before the enemy could finish rebalancing shield power, a heavy shot from Lysara’s side lanced through it at near-direct range, punching the hull so hard that the command sections went dark in an instant.
Silence spread quickly after that.
They started looking for the damaged engines, fires, broken transmissions, and drifting debris everywhere.
But battle silence.
The kind that ca when a fleet understood it no longer existed.
Aurelian watched the projection for a few monts longer while final resistance collapsed, then gave the next order in the sa calm tone he had used from the beginning.
"Capture what is worth taking. Secure the command archives first. After that, we collect the map, the artifact, and anything else this fleet should not have been carrying."
"Yes, Commander," ca the answers across the line.
Solenne began recalling so of her strike wings while redirecting others to suppression and boarding support.
Rhoswen broke off from her last kill and moved toward the nearest surviving command hull, ready to pin it in place if surrender turned into a trick.
Lysara, having spent so long buried underground and then coming into the stars just in ti for a proper ambush, sounded almost refreshed when she spoke again.
"I must say," she said, elegance restored now that the firing had stopped, "this was a much better welco than silence."
Aurelian’s mouth twitched slightly.
"Get used to it," he said.
Because this was only one archaeological fleet.
And if Lysara’s old mory was right, there were more ruins in this region, more hidden places, more forgotten weapons and ships, and likely more enemies trying to profit from them.
He looked over the crippled Kharov formation one more ti, then turned his attention to the next steps already forming in his mind.
The heavy cruiser had been secured.
The ambush had succeeded.
The enemy’s records would soon be in his hands.
And sowhere behind them, Larkspur Haven was still fighting to live, but due to Aurelian’s intervention, they were able to rebuild and grow exponentially.
User Comments
0 comments from readers