Outer Sector Outpost 7, Imperial Periphery
The confirmation that the 'Crimson Fury' and its escorts were on a direct attack vector hit the command center like a physical blow. The tense quiet shattered, replaced by a flurry of urgent commands and acknowledgements. Red alert klaxons finally blared throughout the outpost, their strident call echoing the sudden spike in adrenaline.
"Condition Red!" Commander Vorlag roared, his voice cutting through the rising noise. "Maximum power to shields! All defensive batteries online and targeting! Engineering, divert all non-essential power to shields and weapons!"
Technicians scrambled at their consoles, their faces pale but hands moving with practiced speed. On the main holographic display, the icons representing the three Scorpion warships grew steadily larger, their projected path an unwavering line aimed directly at Delta-7.
Valerius stood near the tactical console, a pillar of calculated calm amidst the controlled chaos. His Wargod senses, particularly his Spatial Sense, flared, reaching out towards the approaching threat. He could 'feel' the immense energy signatures of the cruiser and its frigates – the cruiser a blazing sun compared to the frigates' bright stars, all dwarfing the outpost's own defensive energy profile. The sheer disparity in power was sobering.
'System, analyze incoming formation. Predict primary attack vectors and targets. Calculate optimal shield modulation frequency and defensive fire patterns.'
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Eighteen percent. The odds were grim. Valerius rapidly translated the System's recommendations into concise tactical orders, relaying them to the weapons and shield control officers via his command override privileges granted by Vorlag.
"Shield Control, initiate frequency cycle Gamma-7 / Delta-4. Modulate every ten seconds," Valerius commanded, his voice cutting through the din. "Weapons Control, designate Frigate One, port side, as primary target for Batteries Alpha through Delta. Platform Alpha, target Cruiser 'Crimson Fury', forward pulse cannon array. Fire on my mark."
The officers acknowledged instantly, inputting the commands. There was no time for debate, no room for questioning his authority now. Vorlag watched him, nodding curtly, implicitly trusting Valerius's tactical judgment in this critical moment.
Valerius saw Lieutenant Kaelen across the room, coordinating internal security teams, sealing blast doors. Kaelen's face was set, focused entirely on his duties. The immediate, overwhelming threat seemed to have temporarily eclipsed their rivalry. Survival was the only priority.
Why were the Scorpions doing this? Valerius pondered, even as he directed the defense. Revenge for the failed feint? Silencing witnesses who knew about Moon 7C and Project Chimera? Or simply a final act of defiant destruction before the Sector Command fleet arrived? The System offered probabilities for each, but none were certain. Their motive was secondary to the reality of their attack.
He felt the power within him, the stable core of his Beginner Wargod energy. It felt inadequate against a cruiser, yet it was infinitely more than he possessed just days ago. He could use his Spatial Sense to anticipate maneuvers, his enhanced reactions to direct fire with uncanny precision. If necessary, could he risk another 'unconventional' kinetic pulse? Or perhaps a subtle environmental manipulation to disrupt a critical enemy system if they got close enough? Using his powers overtly was still unthinkable, the risk of exposure immense, but the 18% survival probability weighed heavily. He would use every advantage the System and his new cultivation level offered, walking the line between efficacy and secrecy.
"Enemy vessels entering maximum effective weapons range!" the sensor chief announced, his voice strained.
"All stations, brace for impact!" Vorlag bellowed.
On the holographic display, the Scorpion ships grew menacingly large. Valerius could almost feel the thrum of their powerful engines through his Spatial Sense, the focused intent of their targeting systems.
He took a centering breath, pushing his senses outwards, overlaying the System's tactical data with his own intuitive Wargod awareness. The air crackled with anticipation.
"Weapons Control, Platform Alpha," Valerius commanded, his voice ringing with authority. "On my mark… Mark!"
The battle for Delta-7 began not with an incoming volley, but with the outpost firing first – lances of energy and kinetic slugs streaking out towards the approaching storm.