However, watching the numbers representing fuel reserves plummet on the monitoring screen and the clouds of expensive black mist being jettisoned into the void, rapidly dispersing, Lieutenant Lowell suddenly jolted awake from his initial shock and fear, gripped by a more immediate panic.
Responsibility!
He was the commander of this transport fleet!
These hundreds of thousands of tons of high-purity fusion fuel were urgently needed supplies for the Abuja Stellar Ring, and their transport mission had been directly assigned by higher authorities.
If this batch of fuel was actively vented under his command due to an attack...
Even if both crew and ships survived in the end, he would absolutely not escape severe accountability for improper battlefield decisions resulting in the loss of critical strategic supplies!
His family might be able to save his life, but his career would be utterly ruined!
This thought pierced through his terror at the sudden appearance of the Federation Fleet like an ice spike.
"Stop! Stop it!"
Lowell shouted hoarsely into the communication channel, his voice twisted with urgency.
"All transport ships!
Immediately cease fuel venting!
Close all pressure relief valves!
I order you to stop now!"
The channel fell silent for a moment before a hesitant voice from a transport ship operator came through.
"But Lieutenant... Captain Holden's order was to dump fuel to reduce weight for a faster retreat..."
"Captain Holden?
Who is the commander now?!
It's me!
Captain Ian Lowell!"
Lowell snapped, as if stepping on a sore spot.
His tone was filled with offended anger and the anxiety of urgently needing to assert his authority.
"Execute my command immediately! Stop the venting! Preserve the fuel!"
He had no time to consider Holden's possible reaction or to analyze whether saving their lives or saving the fuel was more important at this moment.
In his mind, dominated by bureaucratic thinking and self-interest, the clearest thought now was: the fuel cannot be completely lost; at least some must be preserved!
He seized the internal fleet command authority and began issuing orders directly to each transport ship, his voice carrying an imperious tone that brooked no argument.
"Communications officer, reforming formation!"
"Flagship Chevron, and the transport ship Mobil to the right.
Follow my signal, turn immediately, engines at full power, and retreat at full speed toward Bastion-7 Outpost!"
"The remaining four transport ships, coordinate under Captain Holden's command and change to a cover formation!"
He took a deep breath and issued that cold, selfish order.
"Your mission is to block the pursuit of the Federal Starships at all costs!"
"Use your hulls, use your firepower, use any means necessary!
Even if you have to ram them, you must hold them back!"
"Buy time for the Chevron and Mobil to escape!"
This order was clearly transmitted to every transport ship and reached the ears of Captain Holden.
The channel fell deathly silent.
On the four named transport ships, the crew members' faces drained of color.
They were piloting heavy, slow, nearly defenseless civilian transport ships, and now they were being ordered to directly block elite Federal Starships?
Even going so far as to actively collide?
On the bridge of the escort ship where Captain Holden was stationed, the atmosphere had dropped to freezing point.
He clenched his fists so tightly that his fingernails nearly dug into his palms.
Lowell's actions were tantamount to abandoning his comrades, sacrificing most of the ships and personnel.
All to preserve himself, the two fortunate transport ships, and… his own personal prospects.
But military orders are as firm as mountains.
Lowell was the highest-ranking commander of the transport fleet, and within the fleet's internal hierarchy, his authority indeed surpassed that of escort commander Holden at this moment.
"Captain Lowell!
This is…"
Holden attempted one last effort, his voice trembling with anger and disappointment.
"Execute the order, Captain Holden!"
Lowell cut him off harshly, his tone unyielding.
"Or do you intend to defy orders and have everyone perish here?
The Snow Dragon and Meifu can carry away at least one-third of the fuel!
This is the maximum damage control!
Now, fulfill your duty as an escort officer and cover us!"
Before the words had fully faded, the selected Chevron and Meifu had already begun turning and accelerating in a panicked yet resolute manner, fleeing in a direction entirely different from the other four sister ships.
Their engines spewed dazzling plumes of exhaust, their speed noticeably increasing—partly due to the fuel already jettisoned, and even more so because they had shed the heavy burden of providing cover.
As for the remaining four transport ships and three escort ships,
they were like lambs abandoned before a pack of wolves, forced to turn and position themselves between the Federal assault fleet and the two fleeing vessels.
Meanwhile, the assault fleet, composed of two high-speed cruisers and six destroyers from the Earthly Chief Fleet under the Tiankui Star sub-fleet of the Federal Pluto Fleet,
was like an unsheathed blade, silently and swiftly cutting into the battlefield.
Interim commander Captain Zhu Bingzhu stood on the bridge of the flagship Swift Lightning, his gaze as sharp as an eagle's.
On the tactical screen, the chaos and division within the Imperial transport formation were clearly visible.
Two transport ships were desperately turning and accelerating, attempting to escape, while the other four, along with three outdated escort ships, desperately positioned themselves as a barrier ahead, trying to buy time for their fleeing companions.
Zhu Bingzhu's brow furrowed tightly.
The objective was to capture the transport ships, securing fuel and possibly engines.
Those two fleeing ships were moving the fastest; if they managed to create distance and penetrate deeper into Imperial-controlled space, capturing them would become far more difficult.
However, the four transport ships and escort ships left behind to intercept, though low in combat effectiveness, were like a troublesome thicket of thorns that would severely hinder the assault's speed.
A choice had to be made, and quickly!
They were deep behind enemy lines, every second was precious, and the Imperial garrison fleet's response time could be measured in minutes.
"Orders!"
Zhu Bingzhu's voice was cold and unwavering, transmitted instantly to every starship via the encrypted channel.
"All ships, assume assault formation! Target: the Imperial escort ships and transport ships blocking our path ahead!"
"Firepower configuration: concentrate precise strikes on the enemy ships' bridges, sensor arrays, and weapon control centers!"
"Avoid the cargo holds and main engine areas of the enemy ships!
I want hulls as intact as possible, not piles of scrap!"
"Electronic warfare units, fully suppress enemy communications and fire control systems, paralyze their command and counterattack capabilities!"
He paused, his gaze fixed on the two transport ships that had already fled some distance away—the Chevron and the Mobil.
"Destroyers Jia Zu and Yi Zu, break away from the main attack formation!"
"Target: the enemy fleeing transport ships Chevron and Mobil."
"Authorization granted to use 'Spear' long-range anti-ship missiles for a saturation attack!"
"No need to pursue capture; complete destruction is sufficient!"