Wild Space - The Federation's Might
Thud. Rumble...
The ship was shaking violently. This was a vibration that had pierced through Nahibi's outer membrane, unlike any shock before it, rattling the entire internal space.
[Nahibi! You okay?!]
I gripped the controls tight and sent a telepathic message.
[Quiet down... Don't yell in my head, you lowly creature.]
Nahibi's voice was lower than usual, more like deep disgust than pain.
[Those rat bastards are already churning up my guts enough to make me puke. Don't you go ringing my brain too.]
[What's going on?]
[It's nothing...]
Nahibi fell silent for a moment. Through the bridge viewport, the white inner wall visible outside convulsed, contracting and relaxing repeatedly.
[If I call it 'nothing' in this situation where even you lowly creatures pose a threat... it might just sound like a pathetic excuse.]
A bitterness seeped into Nahibi's telepathic waves.
[Maybe even after losing Mother, I've been turning a blind eye to it. The fact that your Federation... is no longer something we can just look down on and ignore.]
A hundred years ago, Nahibi recalled the time she had dominated the battlefield alongside her queen. Human weapons couldn't pierce her outer shell, and their ships shattered like toys.
But now I'm feeling pain. That unknown weapon the Federation created is digging through my tough exterior, straight into my weak points, tearing at my flesh.
[Kal. I, Nahibi, acknowledge it.]
[Your Federation...]
Weight filled Nahibi's voice.
[is truly our adversary!!]
At that moment, her tone carried not despair, but a profound satisfaction. Their great mother hadn't fallen to lowly creatures, but to equals. From now on, she would recognize the Federation as a threat surpassing parity and fight with all her might—a declaration of unyielding struggle.
[Fine. I got careless and took a hit.]
Crunch. Nahibi's body tightened even harder.
[This isn't where I'll fall. If this body carrying our queen could be pierced so easily, the title of guardian would ring hollow!]
Nahibi reinforced her defensive posture. She halted her attacks, channeling all energy into densifying her outer membrane.
* * *
"Admiral! The Singularity 'White Snowfield' is changing form!"
At the operator's shout, Admiral Barkas looked out the bridge window.
Sure enough, the tens of thousands of massive tentacles stretching toward space from its central body began retracting toward the core all at once.
Like a turtle tucking into its shell, abandoning the offensive, or a beast curling up to endure agony.
Seeing this, hope began to flicker through the Hound mercenary fleet.
"It's shrinking back!"
"Our attacks are working! The tentacles are vanishing!"
A deeply satisfied smile crept across Admiral Barkas's lips.
Yes. This is how it should be. This is the normal conclusion.
The demon-like monster knelt before human technology, assuming a defensive stance. The overwhelming terror that had dominated them moments ago began to ebb away.
In its place rose human arrogance and the thrill of victory.
In the end, it was just fear of the unknown. This moment proves that the light of intelligence humanity has woven across the stars illuminates the abyss and conquers dread.
Barkas was convinced. The monster was now a fish on the cutting board.
"Attack! Hit it relentlessly! Don't give it a chance to extend those tentacles again!"
Pilots in fighters and captains watching from ready rooms alike cheered over open comms, sharing the same thought.
Soon, that massive white sphere would burst open, yielding the Night Raven as their trophy of victory.
But.
1 hour...
Boom! Crash! Thousands of fighters unleashed missiles and beams without respite. Space itself turned white from the sheer firepower concentrated there.
The monster didn't fall.
2 hours...
Rumble...
Fighters shuttled to carriers for resupply, barrels overheated and spraying coolant as they kept firing.
The surface of the White Snowfield pitted and rippled like pockmarked skin, but it wouldn't break. The monster absorbed it all without a single cry.
The monster still didn't fall.
3 hours...
Thud... Boom. The barrages grew sporadic. Ammo was running low, and soldiers' cheers turned to bone-deep fatigue and doubt.
Cease fire...
The monster
didn't fall.
It simply stood there, a silent white planet, enduring stoically.
"......"
Barkas bit his lip. He tasted blood.
The din of battle quieted. Where the smoke cleared, the massive white sphere still floated. Its surface was ragged, but its oppressive presence felt even heavier.
It won't die... Why won't it die? We've pumped thousands of resonance warheads into it.
Unease surged. At this rate, they'd be the ones to tire first. Ammo was finite; the monster just held its ground unyieldingly.
This won't do. A war of attrition means we lose. We need a decisive blow... Yes, one shot to cut off its breath for good.
Barkas rose as if resolved.
"All fleet, cease fire. Reform battle lines."
"A-Admiral? If we stop attacking, it'll recover!"
"Haven't we confirmed it's useless for three hours?"
Barkas said coldly.
"Relay to the fighters: Prepare for final sortie. On my mark, dump every last round and withdraw—no shells left behind."
"And the main force in the meantime?"
"We... charge the main guns."
The vice admiral paled.
"Admiral! The main guns' effective range... No, closing in for guaranteed penetration is suicide! We'd be walking right into its tentacle range! If it lashes out like before, the fleet is done for...!"
"We've spent too much money."
Barkas dropped the non sequitur.
"Pardon?"
"Those resonance shells, missiles, energy cells we fired for three hours... We printed non-existent ones with onboard munitions fabricators. Used up every reserve on the cruisers. Even ground spare parts into feedstock and blasted it all. Fleet losses are over 30%, and magazines are emptying fast."
Barkas pointed to the blank tactical map.
"If this op fails, I write a report, take some discipline, and come back. But you?"
Barkas's words pierced the cold reality. Apex Industries was a corporation.
They all knew what happened to unprofitable departments and employees who caused losses.
"Think about the company's position: Returning empty-handed, having burned through every resource and racked up astronomical costs. We 'Hounds' know better than anyone the fate of those who bleed the company dry."
"......!"
Someone swallowed hard in the deathly quiet bridge. Scarier than death was making an enemy of the corporation.
Their eyes changed. Fear of tomorrow's survival outweighed dread of the monster.
"Now that you get it, charge without hesitation!! Target: Once main guns are charged, aim for the core and fire!"
Only then did the chaotic bridge atmosphere settle, each crew gripped by survival instinct.
"What we lack is one powerful shot to pierce that monster! All three cruisers, full ahead! Charge main guns!"
Vrooom—! The three surviving heavy cruisers surged toward the monster. Engines screamed but pressed on.
> All silos charged. Energy output 100%. Critical threshold reached.
"Effective range entered! No reaction from White Snowfield!"
"Good! Now! Fighters, all ammo—fire!!"
With Barkas's roar, thousands of fighters launched their final kamikaze run.
Every remaining resonance warhead converged on the White Snowfield's surface—a spot presumed to house the core.
The surface writhed madly. Resonance vibrations peaked.
Finally, part of the tough outer membrane encasing its body cracked open.
The hidden white flesh beneath was exposed.
Time seemed to slow in Barkas's eyes. The torn membrane revealed white flesh that looked almost beautiful.
"Core-presumed object located! Energy concentration detected!"
Time snapped back; his vision confirmed the operator's target aligned perfectly with the main gun reticle.
Barkas clenched his fist. It had been tough, but this ended it. The monster. The mission.
"Fire!!!"
Kaboom—!!! Blue flashes erupted simultaneously from the three cruisers' main guns.
Pure energy torrents, incomparable to mere missiles.
The Federation's most brilliant, destructive light cleaved through cosmic darkness, piercing the monster.
An explosion so bright it whitened vision. Shockwaves rocked the fleet.
Moments later.
Where the intense flash faded.
A gaping hole. Right where the core was presumed, a massive cavity punched through the White Snowfield's enormous body.
Centered on the hole, the monster's form began collapsing, losing its spherical shape.
White flesh melting slime-like.
A wound that no longer regenerated.
The bridge was deathly silent. All held their breath, staring at the sight.
......Did we get it?