“Huff!~” Prince Diallo exhaled heavily, his breath laden with frustration. Although the fleet had suffered significant losses, losing 40% of its ships, he consoled himself with the thought that once they reached the rendezvous point, they could regroup, repair, and counterattack thodically…
“thodically,” he muttered, turning the phrase over in his mind, yet he couldn’t co up with any plan that would turn the tide.
He did have so intel on the swarm. The Planet Raze base was the oldest but had limited resources. The base in close stellar orbit had the richest resources but was too recently established. Thus, the base on Planet Izumo was the swarm’s largest deploynt in the Riken Star System, boasting the strongest fixed defenses.
Diallo’s original strategy was to crush the Planet Izumo base with overwhelming force, then turn to annihilate the stellar orbit base, subjugate the Rikens en route, and finally cripple the Planet Raze base.
After that, he planned to reveal his identity, forcing the swarm into silent acquiescence while showcasing the “old guard’s” dominance. Ideally, he could even extort valuable concessions from them.
But reality had taken an abrupt turn. Who could have foreseen the swarm hiding so much firepower on the planet’s far side?
This not only rendered his Crimson Kiss barrage less effective but also forced his plan into a truncated version: destroy the Planet Izumo base, subjugate the Rikens, and reveal his identity when the swarm reinforcents arrived.
Reality, however, seed to enjoy mocking him. After slapping his left cheek, it couldn’t resist slapping his right, just to ensure symtry.
Now he was stuck. By the ti he regrouped, the swarm’s reinforcents would likely have arrived. Worse, so of his fleet’s capabilities had been exposed, eliminating any elent of surprise.
If he revealed his identity now, how would the Rikens view him? What about the swarm? His family? His peers in other civilizations? Could the third prince of the Daqi Empire endure such humiliation?
The thought churned in his mind, and his gaze grew steely with resolve. Suddenly, inspiration struck.
The front of the Planet Izumo swarm base still had only a smattering of immobile “old, weak, sick, and disabled” forces.
The rear was guarded primarily by fixed electromagnetic railguns. If he turned the fleet around now and took on the weakened forces head-on, the railguns—against his repulsion fields—would be sitting ducks.
Could this be the breakthrough he sought? If he could destroy the swarm base and quickly subjugate the Rikens, there might still be a way to salvage the situation.
However, his delay had left him with only a dozen warships nearby. The rest of his fleet had already departed, with the fastest likely reaching the rendezvous point. Summoning them back now? Unthinkable.
“Indecision only breeds chaos,” he muttered to himself. The situation couldn’t worsen, so he resolved to gamble everything.
Diallo’s eyes hardened with determination. Just as he was about to issue the order, Aslit let out a sharp cry.
“Ah!!!???”
Her voice, laced with alarm and a hint of terror, made Diallo snap his head up toward the main screen.
Displayed on the screen was the direction of the Planet Izumo base. A massive structure, resembling a satellite, slowly erged into view.
However, its exposed, purple-gray fleshy texture was unmistakably not that of a natural satellite. Because of its distance, it hadn’t been obscured by the tactical nuclear flashes, and now it appeared clearly on the screen.
Both Aslit and Diallo knew exactly what it was, the swarm’s orbital gastructure—a colossal electromagnetic launch platform.
The intel on the Planet Izumo base noted the existence of two such gastructures. At the beginning of the battle, one had been severely damaged. The other had remained hidden, stationed on the far side of the planet. Previously, it had gone unnoticed due to its proximity to the planet and limited viewing angles. Now, with the fleet further away, its full form was finally revealed.
Upon realizing what was unfolding, Diallo struck Aslit heavily with his hand, jolting her back to her senses.
“It’s just a catapult,” he growled. “Essentially an oversized launch platform—nothing dangerous or terrifying about it.”
Still, the sheer size of the structure was breathtaking. It spanned over 200 kiloters in length. How the swarm managed to construct such a colossal apparatus was beyond him, as even the technologically advanced Daqi Empire lacked this capability.
Diallo’s gaze burned with determination. This discovery only strengthened his resolve to act. The swarm reinforcents would take so ti to arrive, and even when they did, they would likely be scattered units. It would take days for a full-scale force to assemble.
If he could capture the Planet Izumo base within this window, this gastructure would beco his prize. Any valuable technology or secrets uncovered from it could offset his earlier losses.
gastructures of this caliber were a hallmark of the most venerable factions in the Confederation, symbols of both status and technological prowess. Securing one for himself would be a monuntal achievent.
“Your Highness! Energy readings from the swarm gastructure!” Aslit exclaid in alarm.
Diallo didn’t need her to point it out. The gastructure’s surface began crackling with vivid blue arcs of electricity—a telltale sign of a swarm construct powering up, unmistakable to even the untrained eye.
—
“Let’s show them one of the swarm’s classic tricks,” Sarah Kerrigan commanded. Her voice was cool yet commanding as she observed from her command post. At her signal, the blue energy arcs surged across the gastructure. In an instant, it discharged its payload—a massive object shot out at incredible speed.
Diallo’s fleet, a re dozen warships, had just begun accelerating. It would take ti to reach top speed, while the object launched from the swarm gastructure achieved maximum velocity the mont it was fired.
Although Daqi warships could ultimately outrun it, in this initial mont, they were at a clear disadvantage.
“Intercept!” Diallo roared. His instincts told him that whatever was hurtling toward them wasn’t friendly, and he wasn’t about to take chances. “Shoot it down, now!”
But their current positioning—fleeing backward—was far from ideal. The Doria, a large escort ship, had a total of more than ten main cannons, yet only four could bear on the target due to the awkward angle.
The remaining ships, however, added another twenty or so main cannons with clear firing angles. Sporadic beams of red energy lanced toward the approaching shadow. Compared to the earlier overwhelming barrages, this attempt felt pitifully inadequate.
Still, with only one target, even these twenty-plus beams constituted a high-priority response.
The black silhouette was a 100-ter-wide sphere, though its true nature was a 300 ter mature body Space Octopus curled into a tight ball—a natural defensive posture for the swarm’s soft-bodied organisms.
These large mature forms carried turret modules capable of striking targets tens of thousands of kiloters away. However, lacking an atomic furnace, their sustained combat capacity was limited.
After depleting most of their stored energy in a few salvos, these creatures would retreat underground to recharge. While the swarm’s surface facilities had been obliterated by Daqi’s tactical nuclear warheads, their limited yields had failed to penetrate deep underground, where the swarm excelled at building secure shelters.
Thus, when the Primordial Bodies were reduced to “old, weak, and crippled” statuses, these large mature forms were among the few remaining assets still operational, and they ca in handy at this ti.
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