What kind of concept are we talking about here?
The Earth to Moon distance of over 300,000 kiloters could be traversed by this missile in just four seconds, assuming no external factors. With the Daqi fleet over 10 million kiloters away from Planet Izumo, factoring in acceleration, the missiles would take just over two minutes to reach their target.
This speed was extraordinary—especially for a missile. Unlike electromagnetic railgun projectiles or energy beams, which are one-shot, point-to-point weapons, these missiles carried fire-control systems and propulsion units, enabling them to independently seek and track targets.
At this velocity, the Swarm’s current technology offered no ans of intercepting them. Once locked on, there was no way for a targeted Swarm unit to evade. At this stage, such weapons were effectively guaranteed to hit their mark.
However, even a weapon this formidable had its drawbacks—its strengths were also its limitations in so respects.
The missile’s engine system, capable of propelling it to such incredible speeds, required an imnse amount of energy. The Daqi used nuclear batteries to power the engines, but due to the extre energy demands, these batteries could not yet be miniaturized. This necessitated a massive missile body, limiting the number that could be carried per warship.
There was also an upgraded version of this missile. By replacing the nuclear battery with a controlled fusion power source, the missile’s size would balloon to 100 ters in length and 20 ters in diater. While this upgrade would extend its effective range to interstellar distances, asured in light-years, such missiles were impractical for anything but the void between star systems, rendering their strategic value negligible.
And this leads to the second major limitation of the Crimson Kiss: its lack of flexibility.
With no prior intelligence on these missiles, the Swarm found themselves caught off guard.
The Crimson Kiss was alarmingly fast. After initial acceleration, its velocity climbed to an extraordinary level. Had the Daqi not launched such a large salvo—causing energy signatures too prominent to ignore—the missiles’ speed might have allowed them to slip through the Swarm’s detection systems altogether.
“It seems we’ll need to upgrade our radar systems,” Sarah Kerrigan muttered, her expression grim.
The brazen arrogance of this newcor faction was matched by their clear technological prowess. “Everyone, move now!” she barked.
Lacking prior intel or adequate preparation, the Swarm could only respond by relocating their forces to minimize the missiles’ accuracy.
With three minutes to react, the Space Octopuses managed to move far from their original positions.
However, high-tech weapons like these weren’t so easily countered. As the Crimson Kiss missiles approached within 300,000 kiloters of the Swarm forces, their warheads abruptly opened, revealing the true payload within.
Each missile contained a MIRV (Multiple Independently targetable Reentry Vehicle) system, housing 36 tactical nuclear warheads. While nuclear weapons had their shortcomings, they remained cost-effective and devastating in space combat.
Each of these warheads, while less powerful than the Radiance of the Rikens, still packed enough punch to severely damage a warship.
Had the three Riken fleets been caught off guard, a salvo like this from the Daqi could have obliterated them outright. Observing the unfolding chaos near Planet Izumo, Riken officers collectively broke out in cold sweats, realizing how close they were to witnessing a similar catastrophe.
Due to the Crimson Kiss missiles’ enormous size and inherent limitations, each Daqi warship carried fewer than ten. In the earlier salvo, most ships had launched at least four missiles, depleting nearly half of their onboard stockpile.
The Daqi fleet wasn’t holding back from firing more missiles—they had calculated that deploying half their arsenal would be more than sufficient.
And indeed, the results were staggering. Over 2,000 Daqi warships, each launching at least four missiles, filled the void with more than 300,000 tactical nuclear warheads. With precision guidance systems, the warheads rained down on the Swarm forces, striking with deadly accuracy.
“Damn it!” Sarah Kerrigan ground her teeth in frustration. Since becoming part of the Swarm, she had never suffered such a severe setback.
The Swarm units facing the Daqi fleet—both the Primordial Bodies stationed in orbit and the land-based artillery on the satellite surfaces—were decimated in a single assault. Forces that had been painstakingly built up over ti were wiped out almost entirely.
The Swarm’s Blades had limited experience in space combat. Their past encounters with the Rikens had been overwhelmingly one-sided, aided by near-omniscient intelligence systems.
Each battle had been more akin to target practice, leaving little opportunity for growth. Now, deprived of foreknowledge, they suffered crippling losses, leaving Sarah and the other Blades reeling.
Fortunately, the Swarm still had reserves. Shielded by the gas giant and its moons, waves of Space Octopuses erged from the far side of Planet Izumo, quickly repopulating the battlefield. However, the destroyed land-based artillery on the satellites couldn’t be replaced as quickly.
“Send them another barrage!” Diallo commanded, grinning as new missile silos opened. Tens of thousands of Crimson Kiss missiles surged toward the Swarm lines once more. If these struck as decisively as the first wave, the Swarm’s defensive positions around Planet Izumo would be utterly annihilated.
“Hmph! Sa old tricks! Do they think we’re idiots?” Sarah snapped. The earlier losses still burned, her frustration far from settled.
As the Primordial Bodies repositioned to fill the gaps, their electromagnetic railguns had already been recalibrated. Now, under intense strain, they fired three rapid salvos in succession.
The effort left the railguns silent, their barrels heavily damaged from overheating. If these were Riken railguns, the damaged components would require manual replacent, but the Swarm’s biological advantages shone here.
The Space Octopuses’ tabolic processes accelerated, expelling necrotic cells and regenerating new ones. Given sufficient energy and a brief respite, the railguns would fully repair themselves.
However, repairs weren’t the imdiate priority. The three salvos had launched over a million projectiles. While these would take hours to reach the Daqi fleet and were unlikely to hit moving targets, that wasn’t the objective.
The aim was to saturate the space between the two forces.
This exposed a key weakness of the Crimson Kiss missiles: their extre speed made them highly susceptible to collisions with debris. Even a minor obstacle could shatter them. Prior to firing their first wave, the Daqi fleet had used three rounds of their main guns to clear the space between themselves and the Swarm, ensuring an unobstructed path for the missiles.
The Swarm’s Blades had noticed this tactic. If the Daqi cleared the path, the Swarm would simply refill it.
Though the distance between the two forces was vast, the corridor for missile trajectories was relatively narrow. Now, with the space filled by countless electromagnetic projectiles, the second wave of Crimson Kiss missiles faced a chaotic gauntlet.
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