Legacy of the Void Fleet

Those Minotaur ships have suffered severe damage and are no longer spaceworthy. Interestingly, most of the damage is confined to their flight propulsion systems and upper structural sections. With some repairs, they could be made usable again.

And that’s a miracle, to say the least, don’t you think, Grand Admiral? After all, considering the heavy bombardment from our vanguard and both flanks, the shockwaves from the nova cannons, and then the internal blast of the star fortress itself, it’s astonishing they’re still in this condition. Honestly, it’s not bad at all.

Indeed, one could say their luck truly shone this time, though not for long, Ezra said dismissively.

”Oh? So you plan to eliminate the surviving Minotaurs within those ships? Hmm. Why not keep them? We could brainwash them to do our bidding, couldn’t we?” she asked.

Ezra nodded, then shook his head and continued.

”While it’s technically viable to use them, even as tools to convince other Minotaurs in this star system, it was never something we considered to begin with. Nor is it something we can or will do. As for the rest, their spirit is already broken. No amount of brainwashing would change that. It simply wouldn’t work.”

He paused briefly before adding, ”At this point, they’re practically useless. Even the Minotaurs in this star system, soon to be under our feet, hold no real value for us. What does have value is their next generation. Those we can train according to our direction and instill loyalty to the Imperial command—without manipulating their souls or resorting to other forceful means.”

He explained this calmly to her.

Eclipse paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face, then nodded before continuing with her report.

”Additionally, the expected commander of the Minotaur fleet, who attempted to escape the star system, was also taken down by the aftermath of the Nova Cannon.”

Ezra nodded as he heard the report, his expression betraying no particular emotion, as if the death of the Minotaur commander meant nothing to him. In truth, it didn’t. Still, he found himself quietly appalled by the commander’s sheer misfortune. Despite all his strength and will to escape death, the Minotaur had perished all the same, and in such a way. The thought left Ezra momentarily speechless, though he showed no outward reaction.

He simply nodded again, and Eclipse continued.

She turned slightly to look at him before proceeding. ”All in all, we have effectively neutralized the Minotaur defensive forces within the star system. We now hold almost total control.”

”Good,” Ezra said. ”Then our focus should shift to clearing the system of any remaining forces that could threaten our agenda. That comes first.”

He paused, then added, ”On that note, what is the status of the capture of the five habitable planets and the Minotaur forces stationed there? Has our smaller contingent begun the operation? If so, show me the progress.”

Ezra asked this while looking directly at Eclipse.

clipse nodded before responding.

”The mission hasn’t started yet,” she said. ”However, our forces are close to reaching their assigned targets.”

She snapped her fingers, producing a sharp, natural sound, just as any ordinary being would. Yet Eclipse was not a physical entity at all. She was a transcendent-level AI, her existence composed entirely of pure origin energy, or mana, the same force cultivated by Kallus and his party within the universal domain. That fact alone gave some sense of the sheer scale of her being.

It was precisely this nature as an energy-based existence that granted her abilities most would never expect: gestures, expressions, and all the traits of a truly living, thinking intellect. Rather than limiting her, her form enhanced her capabilities. Her immense computational power was not only a result of her nature, but also because she was directly connected to the ship itself, acting as its brain. That connection multiplied her processing capacity many times over what she originally possessed.

At her gesture, a three-dimensional holographic map appeared on the command bridge.

It was extraordinarily detailed—too detailed, in fact—displaying a real-time model of the entire star system.

Every possible detail was visible. The fleeing ships of the now completely annihilated Minotaur fleet could be seen scattering in all directions. After traveling a certain distance from the main battlefield, they exited the influence of the space-lock field that had been holding them in place. The moment they were free, each ship entered warp at the first available opportunity.

One by one, they vanished from their original positions, leaving only empty space behind.

However, it wasn’t difficult for the advanced systems installed across the First Battle Fleet—especially aboard the Oblivion-class dreadnought on which Eclipse resided—to predict the Minotaurs’ warp exit points. The analytical projections of their trajectories revealed something significant: nearly forty percent of the remaining Minotaur forces were still within the star system, heading directly toward one of the five habitable planets.

A pointless move, Eclipse thought.

Heading straight toward their own deaths after barely escaping—how stupid. She muttered to herself, her tone flat and unimpressed. These Minotaurs truly had no idea what to do if they wanted to survive.

Well, not my headache. It’s their lives. If they’re willing to throw them away, our fleet is more than willing to take them.

She snapped her fingers once again, and the three-dimensional, real-time map of the star system zoomed in on the five habitable planets.

A small contingent of Minotaur ships could be seen racing toward the closest world, which she designated as B-01. The others were marked in sequence as B-02, B-03, B-04, and B-05.

Each contingent numbered roughly forty ships. On the other planets—B-02, B-03, B-04, and B-05—forces similar in size to the group heading toward B-01 were converging as well, each consisting of approximately forty vessels and on the verge of reaching their respective targets.

Meanwhile, the first contingent, being the closest to its objective, had already begun taking action.

Aboard a Resurgent-class battleship, on the command bridge, Captain Jarvis fixed his stone-cold gaze on the massive space station orbiting B-01. He issued his orders calmly to his subordinates.

”Lock all weapons on the station and on every Minotaur ship operating in its vicinity,” he said. ”That includes the Titan-class long-range railgun, the quad heavy turbolasers, and all auxiliary batteries. Any vessels that do not belong to the Minotaur race are to be removed from our target list. Prepare boarding teams for those ships instead. Their crews will need to be handled differently than the Minotaurs.”

”Yes, sir,” the weapons officer replied, immediately getting to work. Around him, other weapons officers did the same, turning every available battery toward the space station and the ships moving in and out of its orbit.

At the same time, another of Jarvis’s subordinates began preparing the space marines for boarding operations, assembling the units tasked with seizing the designated vessels.

Within seconds, the battleship continued closing in on the space station. The station had already detected their approach and was transmitting repeated warnings, threatening retaliation if the fleet did not withdraw. As if to prove those threats were real, the station’s weapons emplacements, along with several armed patrol ships, turned their targeting systems toward Jarvis’s vessel.

Jarvis merely smirked and didn’t bother to respond.

”Sir,” the weapons officer reported, ”all weapons are locked and ready to fire. Awaiting your order.”

”What’s there to hesitate about?” Jarvis said with a grin. He rose from his seat and gave the command. ”Fire.”

For a brief moment, the stars themselves seemed to light up as multiple forms of attack were unleashed at once. Before anyone aboard the space station or the surrounding ships could react—

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Waves of energy and kinetic strikes slammed into the shields, crushing them almost instantly before tearing into the hulls of both station and ships alike. Many vessels never even had time to raise their shields before they were blasted apart. Those aboard—who had only moments earlier been settling in, dreaming of the destinations they planned to visit—saw the world flash white before everything collapsed into darkness.

The space station fared even worse. Entire sections were punctured and torn apart, and its hangar bays were completely annihilated.

And before the survivors could even begin to understand what had happened, another barrage struck. Then another. And then another.

And just like that, after barely two minutes, the massive space station—an enormous structure roughly twenty kilometers wide and ten kilometers long—suddenly shook violently. With a thunderous boom, explosions erupted from multiple points within its interior.

Along with those internal blasts, all of its stabilizers lost power, many of them suffering catastrophic damage. Caught by the gravity of Planet B-01, the crippled station began to fall toward the planet itself.

Aboard the Resurgent-class battleship, Jarvis reacted immediately.

”Fire an antimatter disintegration missile,” he ordered. ”We can’t allow that thing to crash and devastate the planet’s surface.”

”Yes, sir.”