Legacy of the Void Fleet

At least my team burns with the same desire as I do, she thought.

She straightened her back, her face flushing red as vivid images crossed her mind—images of what would happen if her team finished last. The shame. The mockery. She couldn’t withstand that.

happen if her team finished last. The shame. The mockery. She couldn’t withstand that.

”So what are we waiting for?” she snapped. ”Let’s get moving—quickly. We end this fast, or it won’t end well for any of us.”

Hearing those words—it won’t end well for any of us—nearly three hundred marines shuddered for a moment. Then, one after another, they nodded hastily and began moving out, splitting according to the divisions decided just moments ago.

But before they could leave, Zena suddenly ordered them to pause. ”Everyone, hold where you are for a second.” She had just been contacted by Captain David.

David informed her that there had been a change in plans. The fleet was moving in and would begin attacking the Minotaur battle line with full power.

Zena froze for a moment. ”What’s the reason, Captain? Do you have any idea why this sudden shift happened?” she asked, stunned by the complete one-eighty reversal in strategy. The change dissatisfied her—but more than that, her curiosity burned far brighter then her gloom to know what had caused it.

”This isn’t clear to me yet as well,” David replied. ”I haven’t been fully informed about it . But something major has definitely happened—something big enough to shift the fleet from a leisurely strategy to a full-scale offensive.”

He paused, then added, ”One thing is clear, though—and I think you can feel it too. Whatever happened, the fleet wants this resolved as quickly as possible.”

”I understand that, Captain,” Zena said, a hint of complaint slipping into her voice. ”But doesn’t this waste all our effort? We planned everything so carefully to avoid exposing our position to the Bull Race. And now we’re suddenly told caution that they are no longer need to be cautious?”

”I understand how you feel,” David replied calmly. ”But as a soldier, you should know better than anyone—on a battlefield, nothing ever proceeds exactly according to plan.”

”Because a battlefield,” Zena spoke at the same time as David, finishing his sentence instinctively, ”is an ever-changing place. Anything can happen at any time.”

Hearing her repeat his words, David wasn’t surprised. Still, he commended her.”It’s good that you understand this, Zena. Don’t be disappointed—the higher-ups will definitely make it up to you. Now hurry and complete your mission as quickly as possible. All restrictions are lifted, except one: minimize damage to the ship. Other than that—go all out.”

”I’ll be waiting for good news. Over.”

With that, David cut the channel and immediately began responding to queries from teams aboard the other three ships.

Zena turned to her squad and began briefing them on the sudden change in plans. Like her, many were disappointed by the news. Still, when she repeated the same words—a battlefield never stays the same—they ultimately sighed and nodded in understanding.

”We get it, Lieutenant,” one of them said. ”So what are the new orders? Are we changing the plan now that we don’t need to be cautious?”

”No,” Zena replied firmly. ”We’re not changing the plan. You can throw caution to the wind if you want, but we’ll proceed exactly as planned. In any case, this plan is as effective as any we could come up with.”

”Yeah,” someone chimed in. ”It’s fast. It’s simple. And it’s not reckless like a straight-up charge.”

Several others nodded in agreement.

”Alright,” Zena said with a sigh. ”Let’s move and get this done.”

Once again, they advanced according to the original plan—though their enthusiasm had dulled slightly.

Activating their phasing equipment, the team split beneath the corridors, slipping through layers of metal and wiring. They touched down on the deck just below the command bridge, moved forward about thirty to fifty meters, and encountered a few Minotaurs along the way.

They eliminated them swiftly. A bit of commotion followed, but they didn’t linger. Without caring whether reinforcements might arrive, they pressed on, activating their built-in thrusters and phasing once more through the hardened metal structure—this time moving laterally rather than ascending.

When they emerged inside the command bridge, the assigned marines quickly took in their surroundings. Several Minotaurs were engaged in discussion, while a large Minotaur—adorned in a blue military uniform, decorated with numerous stars and medals—sat atop the command seat, speaking angrily in his native tongue.

Thanks to the language traversal device integrated into their suits, the marines understood him clearly. This capability came from the vast amount of data they had acquired after destroying a Minotaur clan ship during the Battle of Rigid Star.

The Minotaur leader roared, ”What is Helren doing? Why hasn’t he given us any direction? Damn it!”

What he didn’t know was that the Taurus Prime’s command bridge had already been effectively isolated from the rest of the ship by the Shadow Division. However, instead of cutting communications entirely, the Shadow Division had deliberately allowed the Minotaur command bridge to maintain contact with the rest of the fleet.

They feared that severing communications outright would immediately alert the Minotaurs that something was wrong. Once the Minotaurs realized they could no longer contact the rest of the fleet—even though all their equipment was functioning properly—it would raise instant suspicion. The proof would be obvious: they were still receiving communications from the fleet, yet they were unable to send even a single word back, despite every system operating as it should.

That discrepancy alone would make it clear to the Minotaurs aboard the ship that something was horribly wrong. It wouldn’t take long after that for them to realize the truth—that their vessel had been boarded by the enemy.

To avoid this entire scenario, the Shadow Division chose a different approach. Instead of disrupting communications, they allowed the command ship to continue communicating freely with the Minotaur fleet, maintaining the illusion of normalcy—while the Shadow Division carried on with its mission in the shadows.

The command ship continued to communicate with the Minotaur fleet, maintaining the illusion that everything was functioning normally—when, in reality, it was anything but.

The marines’ thoughts were interrupted at that moment by the voice of another Minotaur.

”Sir, I don’t know what’s wrong with the battle command,” the officer reported nervously. ”We’ve been trying to contact them continuously, but they haven’t said a word. Even when someone picks up our transmission, all they say is that we’ll be notified later.”

”Damn it!”

Thorax slammed his fist into the command seat as he rose to his feet, causing the holographic displays in front of him to tremble before flickering out entirely.

”What kind of nonsense is this?” he roared. ”Are we playing political games now? This is a war! Decisions shouldn’t take this long—especially not when our fleet is crumbling like a pile of sand trying to sail on water!”

His voice thundered across the bridge.

”Not when sailors on a sinking ship are fighting each other while some are already preparing to run away! Useless pieces of trash!”

Hearing the Minotaur commander’s rant, the marines couldn’t help exchanging glances as they quietly moved into position.

”Sounds like their command has already given up,” one of them muttered.

”Yeah,” another replied. ”Did you hear that part about sailors fighting each other and some trying to jump ship? Does that mean there’s infighting in their fleet? Maybe some are already planning to escape.”

A third marine scoffed. ”Escape? From this? What are the chances? Our fleet has already switched to full power mode.”

”Exactly,” someone else added. ”They’ll realize it soon enough.”

Just as he finished speaking, the entire ship lurched violently.

Alarms blared. Another commotion rippled through the vessel. Frightened Minotaur screams echoed as several were thrown from their seats—including the Minotaur captain himself. The command bridge was suddenly bathed in harsh light as massive flashes erupted outside the hull.

Some of the marines nearly lost their footing.

”Damn—who’s targeting this ship?” one of them cursed as he struggled to keep his balance. ”Don’t they know we’re inside?”

”Relax,” another replied quickly. ”Could be a misfire or stray barrage.”

While the marines inside the command bridge secured their positions and continued speculating, the teams stationed outside were already in place. They waited silently, poised to move the instant Zena gave the signal.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Suddenly, through the vast corridor in front of the command bridge, all one hundred five marines appeared at once—materializing directly to the right of the Minotaur patrols that had been moving leisurely just moments before.

The marines opened fire immediately with one-handed energy weapons.

Several Minotaurs dropped in an instant, their bodies hitting the floor with heavy thuds. The sudden attack snapped the others out of their shock. For a brief moment, their minds struggled to process what was happening.