"Unidentified vessels detected!"
The sensor operator's voice was nearly a scream.
"Two of them! Right on our warp trajectory!"
Wells' heart sank like a stone.
Before he could react, the bellies of both reconnaissance ships opened their launch ports simultaneously.
Six cylindrical devices were ejected, unfolding into honeycomb structures in the void, their surfaces instantly lighting up with dense red dots.
Warp Jammers.
And specialized models at that.
Not conventional signal jammers, but physical space anchor devices.
Once activated, they would form miniature gravity wells lasting three minutes, completely disrupting space curvature within one million kilometers.
Attempting a forced warp jump within such an interference field was like driving blindfolded into a storm.
"No—"
Wells' roar was drowned out by the piercing alarm.
All six jammers activated simultaneously.
In that instant, the space around the jammers seemed to be violently crumpled by an invisible giant hand.
Light transmission paths distorted, distant star charts showed double images, and ship sensor readings went haywire.
Most critically, the Imperial Glory's warp engine overloaded within one second.
"Warp engine forced shutdown!"
The engineering chief's voice was filled with despair.
"Space anchor field interference! We're locked down!"
Inside the Imperial Glory, the warp engine's hum ceased abruptly, replaced by violent vibrations from energy backflow.
On the control panels, one-third of the indicator lights instantly turned red, warning messages flooding the screens like waterfalls.
"Engine damage: 37%!"
"Shield generator overload!"
"Main power conduit breach!"
"Damn it! Damn it!!"
Wells hammered the control console repeatedly, his knuckles splitting and bleeding without him noticing.
"Those two reconnaissance ships... they were waiting for this moment!"
He finally understood.
Why in all previous engagements, these two reconnaissance ships had maintained "perfect" distance.
Why they could appear at the most critical moment in the most lethal position.
Because from the very beginning, this had been a trap.
That battleship used terrifying firepower to create panic, forcing them to make an emergency warp decision.
And these two reconnaissance ships, like vipers lurking in the shadows, waited for them to expose their throats before delivering the fatal strike.
"Open fire! Blast those two reconnaissance ships to dust!"
Wells' voice twisted with rage.
"Main cannon system rebooting, requires at least—"
"Use point defense cannons! Use missiles! Anything! Just shoot!"
The command was given.
The three nearest Imperial destroyers swung their turrets around, point defense laser matrices began charging, and missile silo protective covers slid open.
But exactly 0.3 seconds before the first laser fired.
Those two Shadow-class reconnaissance ships disappeared again.
Not conventional stealth—their hull outlines rapidly faded on sensor screens, like ink dissolving in water, completely vanishing in under two seconds.
Only the warp jammers continued flashing in the void, like six mocking eyes.
"They... cloaked again?"
The adjutant's voice carried a tone of absurdity.
"Quantum cloaking field!"
Wells gritted his teeth.
"It's not conventional optical camouflage, but quantum-level existence attenuation! When did the Federation develop this technology?!"
No answer came.
But he had no intention of waiting for death.
"All ships, abandon jump attempts."
Wells' voice regained the steadiness of a veteran commander, a cold clarity born from desperation.
"Switch to maximum thrust mode for fusion engines, adjust course to 127, declination -5.
Jettison all non-essential loads—backup power cells, redundant armor plates, even some ammunition depots.
I want every ship to reach 115% of their designed maximum speed."
"Commander!"
The chief engineer cried out in alarm.
"The engines will overload!
They can only sustain that for 30 minutes at most before—"
"Thirty minutes is enough."
Wells cut him off, tracing an escape route on the tactical screen with his finger.
"In thirty minutes, we can put at least 300 million kilometers between us.
By then, it'll take them considerable time just to catch up!"
He turned to the communications officer.
"Send final orders to the Dragon Lizard Fleet: hold back the enemy pursuit fleet at all costs.
Regardless of the cost, regardless of losses.
Buy us as much time as possible."
The bridge fell into dead silence.
Everyone understood what this command meant.
Sending the Dragon Lizard Fleet's remaining nine starships to hold off at least eight elite Federation vessels—enemies who held overwhelming advantages in equipment, morale, and command.
This was a sacrifice tactic.
A naked, cold, calculated sacrifice of subordinates' lives to ensure the survival of the main force.
The communications officer's fingers trembled, but they still sent the encrypted command.
Three seconds later, a reply came.
Just two words:
[Understood.]
That was the Dragon Lizard Fleet's final response.
In deep space, the nine starships of the Dragon Lizard Fleet began turning.
Most were outdated models—three Raider-Class Cruisers and six Dagger-Class Destroyers.
Their hulls were scarred with battle damage, shield readings mostly below 40%.
But they didn't hesitate, didn't slow down. Instead, they formed a loose interception line against the approaching Federation Fleet.
"Enemy ships turning to engage!"
On the Thunder's bridge, Captain Meng Changfeng stared at the sensor screen, his brow furrowed.
"They're trying to delay us."
Qin Bei Wang's calm voice came through the comm channel.
"Then let's oblige them. All ships, fire at will.
Prioritize eliminating the cruisers, deal with the destroyers afterward."
The command was given.
Six Shadowmoon-Class Destroyers reacted first.
They scattered like wolf packs, moving in pairs from three directions toward the Dragon Lizard Fleet's formation.
The heated barrage from rapid-fire cannons wove a web of death in the vacuum.
The Thunder prowled along the periphery, its main cannon firing precise, vicious shots with each discharge.
The first shot struck a Raider-Class's shield generator, the second piercing the same ship's engine room.
The explosion's glare shone like a flare in the darkness.
The Dragon Lizard Fleet returned fire.
Aged plasma turrets spat green energy beams, missiles roaring out of launch tubes.
But whether in accuracy or firepower, they were no match for the Federation Fleet's capabilities.
The first Dagger-Class Destroyer was destroyed forty-seven seconds into the engagement.
A crossfire volley from two Shadowmoons tore its vulnerable flank armor to shreds.
The second fell at fifty-two seconds.
The Thunder's main cannon scored a direct hit on its bridge.
"They're committing suicide."
The tactical officer of the Thunder whispered.
"They could have tried to retreat, or scatter and flee..."
"Because they received a death order."
Meng Changfeng stared at the Imperial ships still stubbornly returning fire, his expression complex.
"Using themselves as human shields to buy time for the main force. That tactic... is truly ruthless."
Ruthless, but effective.