Legacy of the Void Fleet

In a few more seconds, it finally dissipated, leaving their shield down to twenty-eight percent. After that, many Minotaurs on the bridge and throughout the ship sighed in relief; they were finally safe, at least for now.

”Damn,” one Minotaur said.

”It’s finally over.” Another choked on his saliva.

”This... this was just so brutal,” he said with lingering fear and dread in his voice. ”And that was just one attack,” he added, wiping the sweat from his face.

The Minotaur captain’s finger shakily pointed at the screen, bewildered. ”How... how the hell did our ship’s hull structural integrity come down to sixty-one percent when it wasn’t even a direct hit on our hull?” he said, his tone one of utter disbelief despite the data.

The display showed the hull’s structural damage with many components—though unimportant—inoperable. Some compartments in the front of the ship were even sealed, as they had been breached.

Just how much power lay behind those energy attacks... No wonder—our quasi–Tier-1 shields on the star-fortress collapsed in record time, he thought, grime streaking his face.’

He then barked ordered, even more hastily than he could thought of other things ”We can’t bear another attack like that.

”Not with our shields down to such an extent, and with the ship’s integrity compromised so heavily,” he said, staring at the schematics in front of him.

The holographic display showed red all over the ship, signifying the extent of damage across both its internal and external structure. Multiple systems were damaged, including many weapon systems, the shield generators, and even the targeting systems had been affected.

The damage had even reached the core areas of the ship that were structurally safer. This made the captain shiver once again as he considered just how powerful those attacks were—they had almost disabled his ship without even making direct contact with the hull structure.

Wiping the sweat that had unknowingly formed on his face, he gulped his saliva and spoke. ”Inform the others, as well as the Commander, that we won’t be able to stand any more of such attacks.” He spoke to the comms officer. ”For the rest of the battle, our battle cruiser class ship cannot be brought to the front line.”

”Umm...” The comms officer reacted slowly. He was entirely focused on the battle unfolding outside, watching many of their comrades fail to survive the bombardment, unlike them.

The Minotaur captain coughed to attract the attention of the officer, who, like many others on the command bridge, had his focus elsewhere. The captain couldn’t blame him; even as he gave directions, his own mind wasn’t completely focused here, but on the devastation outside.

Attracted by the cough, the comms officer turned his face around to the captain. He stuttered as he saw his captain’s serious—yet somewhat relieved—face. ”Y-yes, Captain, I’m on it now, immediately.”

Like a domino effect, the other officers also regained their composure and focused on the command duties, shifting their attention away from the destruction happening around them.

The officer responsible for the propulsion systems spoke next, his voice no different from the comms officer’s, activating the propulsion engine as he remembered the captain wanted their ship moved away from the front quickly. ”Propulsion engines are fired up and accelerating! Secondary propulsion systems are online, turning around the ship!”

The battlecruiser began to turn, momentarily letting its left side face the Void Fleet. A moment later, only its back remained visible, showing the six glowing propulsion energies that threw off blue flames as they pushed the ship. These engines were quite large.

Suddenly, an awkward situation developed within the ship as the turn-around was completed.

The ship had rocked violently, not because it was struck by an attack, but because the sudden activation of the propulsion engines at maximum power had caused the violent lurch.

The captain, for some unknown reason, was unable to detect this from the ship’s systems. He jumped out of the seat he had just settled into.

”Brace! Brace! Brace for impact!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he genuinely felt they were under attack once again and were done for.

”Umm,” said one of the Minotaur officers as he looked at the Captain, speechless. Even though the situation was already this severe, he couldn’t help but be speechless, just like the others on the command bridge of this battle cruiser.

”What are you looking at?” said the slightly panicked Minotaur Captain, who was hiding behind his command chair. He looked at his subordinates from behind his chair. ”Quickly, get hold of something!” he said, feeling a bit weird about the looks he was receiving.

”Umm, well, Captain,” the officer stammered, ”We’re not being attacked. Well, not just yet.” The ship had just rocked because the propulsion engine fired up, and the dampers—which should have cushioned the force—were likely damaged by that last attack.

Now it was time for the others to look at this particular Minotaur officer with the same speechless look they had given the Minotaur Captain.

The difference was that their faces were twitching as many of the officers present thought, What? Dampers damaged? Is he out of his mind? Our ship always rocks like that whenever the propulsion engines are fired up at full force!

Then, as they looked at the emblem on the right shoulder of the officer—a hammer hammering a ship—they realized their mistake. Oh, wait... they thought. So he’s from the production department? No wonder he’s saying that.

In low voices, some spoke to each other so that the officer couldn’t hear.

”No wonder he said that,” one Minotaur whispered.

The Minotaur inside the command bridge, and indeed the Minotaur clan as a whole, were aware of the production issues—or rather, the problems within the Research and Development Hall—which was run by the Twelve Supreme Noble Families belonging to the twelve Supreme Elders.

The Research and Development Hall in their clan was rife with multiple levels of corruption perpetrated by the very people who were supposed to be responsible for this vital department.

Most of the technology used by the clan and its military was either purchased or created by this department. Even so, many of the resulting technologies and assets, such as their ships, were not on par with the necessary demands and capabilities.

The violent rocking caused by the propulsion engine was a symptom of this corruption. It wasn’t because the recent attack had damaged the engine’s dampeners; this tendency to violently shake often occurred when ships suddenly accelerated from a dead stop.

The captain knew about this issue, as did others throughout the military, but they tended to ignore it due to the powerful parties involved. The only reason the captain failed to notice the engine’s activation this time was because the shock and adrenaline of the attack had overwhelmed him, just like the others.

Meanwhile, as a rather comical event was taking place aboard this one particular Minotaur battlecruiser, things were taking a dramatic turn for the worse across the Minotaur fleet.

The battle had started and begun, and the Minotaur fleet was fighting a desperate struggle for survival. Yet, with every passing second, the chance of surviving this engagement grew smaller, a cruel irony of war. Losses were mounting swiftly, and they were powerless to stop it.

Now, all hope rested on the Minotaur commander, Helran. Time was a luxury he didn’t have, and the fate of his crew would be decided in the upcoming moments. Will these be our last moments, or can a miracle save us? he thought. He gave a bitter chuckle. A miracle was unlikely; the enemy was overwhelmingly powerful.

”Only the Star Fleet can save us, and even that is questionable,” he muttered aloud.

”Sir, that’s an understatement,” replied one of the Minotaur officers, watching the brutal exchange on the main display. ”We can’t even reach our homeworlds in this system, much less contact the Star Fleet.”

Their force was suffering a crushing defeat against an enemy they knew nothing about. Losses mounted with every passing second.

While the tactical rotation of their three-layered formation was mitigating the damage, it was merely delaying the inevitable: more casualties.

”I’m aware,” Commander Helran said, his gaze fixed on the screen. Energy weapons clashed, and missiles streaked across the void. Interception rates for their defensive fire were barely 60 percent efficient. To deal with the remaining incoming ordnance, Helran’s forces were sacrificing themselves.

The fighter squadrons were being decimated, their numbers falling so fast that in a few tens of minutes, there would be no pilots left. Helran watched a small squadron of sixteen fighters racing across the frontal battle line.

On the enlarged display, he could see the jets maintaining distance, firing at the enemy missiles. They were destroying about 30 percent of the remaining warheads. It wasn’t for lack of time, he realized. It was because the remaining missiles were coming too fast and too close, making it impossible for their targeting systems to lock.

With no choice left, the squadron did not retreat. Instead, they rushed toward the stream of incoming missiles. Manoeuvring their jets through the deadly volley, one by one, the fighters self-destructed, taking themselves and the remaining missiles with them.