His thinking was clear and ruthless.
For the enemy left behind to intercept, aim to disable rather than destroy, leaving room for potential towing or salvage operations later.
As for the fleeing enemy, since capturing them alive was difficult, they had to be silenced!
They absolutely could not be allowed to bring back detailed information about the assault fleet's specific models, numbers, or tactical characteristics!
Using long-range missiles to cleanly eliminate them would save time and avoid the unforeseen risks that pursuit might entail.
"Time is critical! Imperial reinforcements could arrive at any moment!"
"All ships, weapons free! Eliminate the current enemy at maximum speed!"
"Clear the obstacles for subsequent operations!"
With the order given, the Federation assault fleet seemed infused with a soul, instantly erupting with astonishing efficiency and killing intent.
The engines of the cruisers and destroyers in the main attack group roared, their vector nozzles making fine adjustments as they formed an Arrowhead Formation. They charged headlong toward the sparse barrage of the Imperial interception fleet!
Precise high-energy laser beams and electromagnetic cannon shells, like surgical scalpels, avoided the transport ships' spacious cargo holds.
They slammed instead into the narrow bridge observation windows and fragile sensor towers of the escort ships, or targeted the control centers in the transport ships' superstructures.
"Boom! Kaboom!"
The shields of these outdated escort ships were like paper, offering no protection whatsoever.
The frontal armor of one Imperial escort ship's bridge was hit repeatedly, its observation window shattered, and the interior was instantly engulfed in flames and debris.
The entire vessel spun out of control like a beheaded beast.
Another transport ship's command tower in its superstructure was pierced by an electromagnetic cannon shell. Amid the explosion's glare, its communication antenna and navigation array twisted into mangled metal wreckage.
Simultaneously, the cover plates of the vertical launch units on the destroyers "Jia Zu" and "Yi Zu" snapped open instantly.
"Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh—!"
Dozens of "Spear" long-range anti-ship missiles, trailing brilliant plumes, tore through the void at several times the speed of sound, chasing after the two Imperial transport ships desperately trying to flee.
The missiles' intelligent seekers locked firmly onto their targets, constantly adjusting their trajectories.
On the bridges of the distant Chevron and Mobil, piercing missile approach alarms blared incessantly, the faces of the crew etched with despair.
They clumsily attempted to deploy decoy flares, but against such overwhelming numerical and speed superiority, all struggle seemed futile.
Seconds later, a series of massive fireballs blossomed violently in the edge airspace of the Bushman Star System, engulfing the two transport ships laden with luck and selfishness.
The intense explosions even temporarily disrupted the detection capabilities of some sensors further away.
Captain Zhu Bingzhu watched expressionlessly as the interception battlefield was swiftly suppressed and the fleeing enemy eliminated.
"Report the combat status. Clear the battlefield.
Engineering teams, prepare to advance and inspect usable transport ships and fuel.
We have fifteen minutes at most."
He issued his final command.
Meanwhile, in the broader outer regions of the Bushman Star System, similar surprise attacks and disruptions were erupting at multiple points.
The "Harassment-Seizure" operations targeting Imperial transport fleets, carried out by other high-speed units of the Pluto Fleet, stung the Empire's seemingly stable rear like a swarm of venomous wasps.
Although each incident was small in scale, they were frequent, widespread, and carried out with cunning precision, specifically targeting patrol gaps or defensive blind spots.
One urgent, even somewhat panicked battle report after another flew like snowflakes toward the true guardians of the Bushman Star System.
The two joint fleets stationed in the stargate region: the Abaddon and Marbas Joint Fleets.
Aboard the flagship of the Abaddon Joint Fleet, the Abyssal Destroyer.
Fleet Commander Admiral Lucius Armstrong had just concluded his routine communication with the Opal War Zone Command when his adjutant, with a grave expression, presented a stack of freshly compiled urgent reports from the front line.
He quickly flipped through them, his gray-white eyebrows gradually knitting together, before finally slamming the reports heavily onto the command console.
Almost simultaneously, a highest-priority communication request came in from the flagship of the Marbas Joint Fleet, the Demon Prince.
On the screen appeared the face of Marbas Fleet Commander Admiral Samuel Scott, flushed red with anger.
"Admiral Armstrong!
Have you seen those reports?!"
Scott's voice was like suppressed thunder.
"Our outer supply lines have been attacked!
Confirmed to be Federal Starships!
This isn't small-scale infiltration; it's organized assault teams!"
He slammed his armrest fiercely, his spittle seeming almost ready to spray through the screen.
"What the hell is the Early Warning Department doing?
And those patrol teams!
The enemy has slipped right into our backyard, poked several holes, and they didn't give any warning at all?
They're all useless!
The Empire's military pay should be used to dismiss every single one of them!"
Scott grew angrier as he spoke, his voice rising.
"Thank goodness those Federation bumpkins haven't mastered portable stargate technology yet!
Otherwise, with our rear's full-of-holes surveillance network, they could jump their fleet right to our doorsteps, and we wouldn't even know!
We'd be wiped out sooner or later!"
Compared to Scott's fury, Lucius Armstrong appeared more composed, though his eyes were equally icy.
He waited for Scott to finish venting before speaking slowly, his voice carrying the veteran's characteristic hoarseness and calm.
"Calm down, Admiral Scott. Losing your temper won't solve the problem."
He picked up a summary of the battle reports again, his gaze sharp as he analyzed.
"I've carefully reviewed all the attack reports.
The attackers primarily used high-speed cruisers and destroyers, with a total number... roughly between one hundred twenty and one hundred fifty ships.
This scale corresponds exactly to the entire high-speed maneuver force of a standard Federation mother-class fleet, or the main assault formation of an enhanced mother-class fleet."
He paused, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.
"If the Federation truly had the capability for large-scale infiltration, or if a complete sequence fleet were lurking here, they would never be satisfied with just attacking a few transport convoys and scrap facilities.
They would directly charge at our stargates, or at least attempt to strike more critical defensive nodes."
"This current tactic... seems more like a bluff, or perhaps harassment tactics aimed at preventing us from obtaining the energy needed to activate the stargates!"
Upon hearing this, Scott's anger subsided slightly, but his brow remained furrowed.
"You mean... it's just a mother-class fleet that slipped through the net?
Possibly from the direction of the Elvira Star System or the Lou Yang Star System, exploiting some gap we're unaware of?"
"Very likely,"
Armstrong nodded.
"After the Savannah Campaign, the gravitational fields and dust clouds in the star system have become somewhat chaotic, creating detection blind spots.
Coupled with the strain on the front line, patrol density has indeed decreased.
It's embarrassing, but not entirely impossible for an elite small fleet to slip through the gaps."
He proposed a solution.
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