The designers of the base never imagined that one day the defensive passages they built to repel external attacks would be reversed, repurposed to defend against assaults from within.
Their design philosophy assud that even if commanders inside the base were besieged by intruders, they could rely on these passages to hold out until reinforcents arrived.
They had indeed considered the possibility of an enemy breaching the base’s sturdy outer walls. Given the technological level of the Daqi Empire, such capabilities were feasible with equipnt available to the military. However, the military would never take such actions unless it signified an internal rebellion. Their designs were never intended to accommodate traitors.
And in that, they were correct. What they failed to account for was a scenario where they would be forced to abandon their ho planet, fleeing in disgrace from an alien force. After all, the Interstellar Technological Confederation seed invincible to the Daqi, and under the rules of the Ji, conflicts—no matter how fierce—never threatened the safety of habitable planets. They had never anticipated the ergence of an outlier like the Swarm.
Perhaps one day in the future, should the Daqi have the opportunity to rebuild their howorld, they might address such oversights. But for now, no amount of reflection could change their predicant.
“Commander! An object is approaching rapidly from the northwest, 200 ters underground!” A corner instrunt blared an alarm once again, and an operator shouted out after checking the data.
“Boom!” A muffled impact resonated through the base, followed by a faint tremor. As before, every Daqi inside the base knew exactly what this ant.
From the first ti the Swarm’s Burrowing Worms struck the Daqi base to now, less than ten minutes had passed. Perhaps the nurous passage gates had slowed the attackers, prompting the Swarm to open another front.
However, this was the last thing the Daqi commander wanted to see. The base was rely a gathering point for the remnants of their people, with barely enough personnel for routine maintenance, let alone combat. Most of the soldiers were untrained recruits, far from professional.
With such troops, even defending a single front was nearly impossible—splitting their forces for a multi-front battle was out of the question. It was clear they needed to accelerate their own plans.
If the base was dood to fall, then…
“Order squads 5 and 6 to deploy all our landmines in the passageways. Spread concentrated fuel as well!” the commander barked, slamming his fist as he gave the order.
The base only had six squads in total, and squads 1 and 2 had already been overwheld by the Swarm. Their status was unknown. Surveillance of that area had been destroyed, leaving the command room blind to their situation, but it was safe to assu they were no longer operational.
Squads 3 and 4 were accompanying the engineering team to prepare transportation vehicles. The remaining two squads were tasked with defensive arrangents, but even under the life-threatening pressure, every Daqi gave their all. Yet, the shortage of personnel made progress frustratingly slow.
anwhile, the Swarm’s advance showed no signs of slowing—in fact, it was accelerating. Thus far, fewer than a few hundred Raiders had been lost, a trivial number given their vast reserves. Cheap to produce, requiring no rare materials, and even partially recoverable post-battle, the cost-effectiveness of these units ensured that any results achieved would be worth the investnt.
The Raiders quickly closed in on the command room, and the Daqi defenses were far from complete. Inside the command room, operators, adjutants, strategists, and even the commander himself were pitching in, hauling supplies to expedite preparations.
“Commander, we have to retreat! If we delay any longer, it’ll be too late! The Swarm is moving faster and faster!” the sole operator still at their station shouted, his eyes fixed on the display.
The commander dropped what he was carrying and hurried to the screen. Indeed, the Swarm’s dual-pronged assault was progressing alarmingly fast. Moreover, they had discovered the ventilation shafts and split off a portion of their forces to infiltrate the base via these routes, spreading rapidly throughout the facility.
The intricate and varied structure of the ventilation shafts, with their nurous barriers, posed a challenge. Yet the sheer numbers of the Swarm rendered these obstacles aningless. The Raiders divided into smaller groups at every branching path, their numbers undiminished, steadily advancing. It was only a matter of ti before one group would reach the command room.
“Retreat!” the commander barked, leading his team in a sprint toward the hangar.
Along the way, they scattered landmines and doused the corridors with concentrated fuel. When their supply of explosives and fuel ran out, the commander ordered all available robots to stay behind and form a final defensive line in the passageways. ꞦÃŊȏꞖЕꞨ
“How’s it going? Can the vehicles move?” the commander demanded, panting heavily as he arrived in the hangar, bent over and gasping for air.
“Eleven are still refueling, but they’ll be ready in just a mont,” an engineer replied.
“Good…”
A thunderous explosion suddenly interrupted him. The detonation was followed by successive blasts, and monts later, a wave of heat surged through the corridors, raising the temperature in the hangar.
The mines they had just set had detonated, igniting the concentrated fuel. The command room corridor was likely now engulfed in a raging inferno.
“I hope it can hold off the Swarm’s advance,” the commander murmured a silent prayer, urging his team to work faster.
The mines packed considerable power, and in the confined corridors, their destructive force was magnified. Yet such single-use attacks posed little threat to the Raiders. However, the fire caused by the concentrated fuel presented a different kind of challenge—a persistent and enduring hazard.
Although the Raiders were cheap and expendable creations, designed with minimal durability, navigating through several hundred ters of blazing corridors was no simple feat.
Fortunately, Luo Wen had anticipated such scenarios when designing the Raiders. Their acidic bodily fluids served more than just a corrosive function. When heated, these fluids released large quantities of heavy chemical gases with strong adhesive properties.
Once produced, these gases adhered to the burning materials, forming an insulating barrier that cut off the flas from external oxygen. While the concentrated fuel contained its own oxidizing agents, the lack of additional oxygen supply caused these agents to deplete quickly, eventually extinguishing the flas.
Though the fires died down, the tal floors and walls remained searingly hot. Yet the advancing Raiders pressed forward without hesitation.
The first Raiders to touch the scorching tal imdiately suffered damage. Their exteriors ruptured, their bodily fluids overheated, and their circulatory systems collapsed, rendering them immobile.
But there was no panic, no attempt to retreat. Instead, they collapsed in place, their bodies forming a protective layer over the hot surfaces, paving a safe path for the Raiders following behind.
Thus, the tal floors and walls beca coated with a layer of Raider corpses, insulating the rest of the Swarm from the intense heat. Though so were lost, the Daqi’s ticulously prepared trap had been neutralized.
Unfortunately for the Daqi, who had already evacuated the command room, they missed witnessing this chilling spectacle. Had they seen it, they would undoubtedly have been overco with shock and despair.
Reviews
All reviews (0)