Chapter 151
Chapter 151
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 151
Chapter Title: The Whale Ships Charge
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"How many eyes does it have?"
"Differs by individual. At least thirteen, it seems."
"Got it. Prepare the mass drivers. Take them out before they latch onto the barrier."
"Gauss Gun activating!"
One of the ship's standard secondary armaments, the Gauss Gun, extended its launch ports from the upper hull alongside the point-defense guns.
It wasn't used often due to the massive electrical energy required for firing, the intense recoil, and the aiming difficulties, but against enemies like these incoming flyers with poor physical resistance, it was perfectly viable at close range.
"Firing!"
Boom!!
The ship lurched back from the powerful recoil as five launch ports sequentially spat out magnetized spherical projectiles.
Hits were instantaneous.
The projectiles, screaming at 10 km/s, shattered the thin barriers with overwhelming kinetic force and burrowed straight into the flyers' bodies.
Shockwaves erupted, blowing half the creatures' flesh away as they plummeted in droves.
The crew clenched their fists and let out low cheers.
There were still plenty of ways to deal with the flyers, but since they'd never allowed enemies this close before, the tension had gotten to them.
"Captain. Look over there."
"Hm?"
Frederick marked the coordinates.
Blackyack Shipyard.
Wondering what was up, I saw that some of the flyers attacking us were heading toward the shipyard.
Around four hundred of them, by the look of it. The shipyard's defenses wouldn't stand a chance.
"Things are getting messy."
"What are your orders?"
"Nothing we can do. Ignore it."
"Understood."
Blackyack Shipyard was basically a space city teeming with people.
Most had probably evacuated by now, but there'd still be a fair number left.
Still, we couldn't help.
The more aliens we let drop safely out of the rift, the worse it'd get.
The casualties from that would dwarf whatever the shipyard was facing.
"Captain!"
My brief attention snapped away entirely at the sight of the massive troop transport Whale Ships emerging, laden with aliens.
"Ah, there they are."
"Plump and juicy."
Whales swimming through the void of space.
I didn't even want to guess how many aliens were wriggling in those bellies.
"Fattened up? Time to harpoon 'em. Main guns, ready!"
The main guns were a battleship's most destructive armament.
To handle the enormous energy buildup required, the designers had essentially turned the entire ship into one giant launch tube.
The massive energy mass, transformed and amplified as it passed through the 400-meter barrel, would pour out from the nozzle at the bow to obliterate the enemy.
Whirr!!
The engines groaned under the sudden load, sending powerful vibrations through the hull.
Even at this distance, the raging energy torrent made my spine tingle.
"It's definitely different."
"If a Sheila-class main gun is a flick to the forehead, this one's at least a solid punch."
"Won't matter unless we hit. Can we punch through that?"
The Whale Ships advanced, erecting thick frontal barriers.
They were so dense they blocked the view of what lay behind.
The point-defense guns, which had been crushing dozens of aliens per hit, now vanished against the surface with just faint ripples.
"Keep misaiming until we take out the Whale Ships. Target the assault pods."
A direct shot into the alien-swarmed rift would be ideal, but no choice.
Like it or not, our best move was to eliminate those Whale Ships fast and clear firing lanes.
"Main guns at 80% charge."
"Full charge in 20 seconds!"
The hull glowed brighter as the main guns charged.
Once the brilliance hit a critical point, the concentrated energy destabilized, shedding rings of light at intervals.
'...Similar. No, mine's barely superior.'
The ship's main guns naturally compared to the Red Cannon's output.
Engine power? Maybe the Murdoch-class edged it out, but main gun firepower was comparable.
With R3D3 amplification? The gap would widen dramatically.
It was almost funny.
A battleship's 400-meter cannon trading blows with human-scale firepower.
And right behind me was someone who could crush its output effortlessly, power-wise.
"...What?"
Merdi narrowed her eyes, sensing the irreverent vibe from my gaze.
Roze caught my eye and immediately waved enthusiastically.
Her voice was so loud it echoed through the bridge.
"Fight! You got this!"
"Idiot. Too loud. Can't you see we're busy?"
"Ugh, sorry..."
Roze's face crumpled into instant puppy-dog eyes, and I couldn't help but chuckle.
It lightened the bridge's tense atmosphere, at least.
"Captain. Main guns charged."
"Aiming point?"
"Right here. Coordinated salvo in 10 seconds per fire control."
The defense fleet knew Whale Ships took priority, so they'd started charging at the same time.
Key was distributing just enough firepower per target to strip their defenses—factoring in charge times and each ship's output. Not something the captain micromanaged.
Crew handled it, and they'd done a damn good job.
These Whale Ships couldn't tank a full fleet salvo.
Surplus firepower meant smart allocation.
With barely 60 seconds? Impressive.
"3 seconds, 2, 1..."
"Main guns, fire!!"
The destruction-packed energy slugs surged from the nozzles.
Like a giant hand squeezing an entire toothpaste tube at once.
The bridge lit up.
The fleet's simultaneous salvo detonating on target turned space into a false sun right outside.
"Whale Ships all destroyed. Local alien signatures wiped clean. Clean shot."
"Yes! Awesome!!"
"Jim, stow it!"
"...Ahh, sorry."
Jim, checking results, had jumped up yelling—only to shrink under Frederick's stern tone.
"Why's he like that?"
"Jim drafted the firing plan. Senior crew helped, but they stuck close to his blueprint. Credit to him."
"And the defense fleet accepted it?"
"Yeah. Good work's good work."
I'd assumed it was their plan. Nope.
My eyes drifted to Jim getting an earful from his senior.
They usually seemed like chummy academy alumni, but the low growl—inaudible to the captain's chair—held surprising venom.
"...You dumbass! Get your head in the game! You think you're still a trainee?"
"I'll shape up, sir."
"Can't you see you've messed up the bridge vibe? This is live combat. Brace yourself. Even if the chief crewman goes easy, I won't."
"Yes, sir..."
Harsh, but not my place to intervene.
Crew hierarchy was like that.
A trainee cheering solo mid-battle? Clear fault on Jim.
I murmured low to Frederick.
"Talk him down later. Tell him that shot wipes the slate clean."
"Got it."
Uncertainty flickered on Frederick's face.
I'd seen it over days: Jim was like a son to him.
As Horizon academy head, he cared for all cadets, but Jim was special.
The tough love came from high hopes.
He wanted Jim out of trainee phase, a solid crewman.
"And keep giving him firing plans."
"Seriously?"
"Talent's for using."
Frederick brightened.
Jim perked up too, hearing the order—smile lingering despite the chewing-out.
Emotional kid, through and through.
With Whale Ships gone, fire refocused on the exposed rift.
Aliens burst in droves.
The pattern held for nearly two more hours.
"That was drop twelve?"
"Yes."
"Engine status?"
"Color orange."
Prolonged combat overheating the engines.
Main guns—biggest drain—fired ten times already.
To last until air raid's end, manage engines tight.
"Resupply?"
"Transports inbound, five minutes."
Point-defense ammo depleted; fresh load from defense fleet.
"Stretch point-defense intervals by 10 seconds. Minimize non-essential power draws."
"Orders relayed!"
Borrowing a cat's paw, as they say.
Efforts paid off; engines slowly improved.
But no rest—the rift spat the alien main force, tension spiking anew.
"Interceptors active! Boost barrier output!"
Dozens of Whale Ships led an uncountable swarm of flyers, with the colossal Hive Nest looming 30 km out, throat going dry.
"Smash that, and we're done."
I muttered as the Hive Nest fully emerged, rift sealing behind.
"Yes. End in sight."
Frederick smiled.
Simply put, Hive Nest was merged hatcheries: a 10 km-wide space fortress with defenses, production, and offense.
Beating one needed a full regular fleet plus ample resupply.
Impossible for our forces.
Except one case.
Right after rift exit.
Hive Nest bore all subordinate aliens' strain.
Rift-opening energy from it, plus extracting that bulk from astral space? Barriers weakened severely.
Doctrine explicit: Prioritize Hive Nest on emergence.
Ignore planet-bound drops; cleanup later. No second chances.
All batteries swung toward it.
"Clear frontal Whale Ships first. Main guns ready!"
Defense fleet unleashed reserves.
Endless bombs stalled the incoming flyers.
Then, spore clumps launched from Hive Nest.
A few pierced blasts and intercepts, slamming barriers—ripples, repulsion, burnout.
Ship shuddered lightly, but bridge tension skyrocketed.
"Steady! We can tank this all day."
Unless overpowering the barrier, defense held.
Engines were the worry.
Sustained hits ramped load.
Yellow-orange engines snapped back to orange.
"Main guns, fire!"
Salvo cleared five Whale Ships.
Hive Nest peeked, but survivors shifted to block.