Chapter 159: The Starting Point of the Road to Glory
The close-range firepower of eleven Greenskin ships made it extremely difficult for Wang Jiarong's fleet to hold them back.
However, their counterattack seemed weak and ineffectual.
Their bows were directed outward, which was already unfavorable for fire projection. What’s more, when the enemy's weapon systems activated, their close-range interception abilities also came online. Laser cannons and macro-cannon shells launched by Wang’s fleet were partly intercepted mid-air, destroyed by the enemy's firepower in the void.
Of course, the intercept systems on the convoy ships were also in action. The "Defender" kinetic rapid-fire cannons and the "Reflector" interception laser cannons were both employed for such tasks.
Overall, however, they were undoubtedly at a disadvantage.
Before they could fully distance themselves, they would likely be overwhelmed by the firepower of the Greenskin orks.
And what was even worse was their speed... It seemed that the Greenskins were actually faster.
When the ork ship's engine systems kicked into full gear, though initially lagging, they quickly accelerated to a surprising speed. It seemed their initial advantage would soon be wiped out.
Once the speed gap between the two sides was eliminated, the increasingly close distance would further amplify the firepower advantage of the Greenskin fleet.
Not to mention, the Greenskin fleet had a special fondness for "boarding combat" during naval battles.
They could almost be considered the second most enthusiastic practitioners of boarding combat in the universe—second only to the Star Warriors.
Landing pods, boarding ships, and even short-range warp... these were all techniques Greenskins could deploy. Once the distance reached a dangerous threshold, they would use these tactics.
The small boarding pods and ships, accompanied by heavy firepower, would approach the target with considerable camouflage to deceive the interception systems of the target ship. As they neared, they would travel at low speed, rendering the void shields ineffective, allowing them to latch onto the hull.
Some minor breaches in the hull caused by naval warfare, which were not initially a big issue, could become entry points; if there were no such breaches, the boarding teams would bring high-performance explosives and cutting tools to create openings at relatively weak spots on the ship.
These openings posed little direct threat to the ship itself, akin to a mosquito bite to a human. However, the “venom” that came with the bite was the real danger. A substantial number of soldiers would infiltrate the ship and engage in fierce combat within.
There was no vast, open area on the ship particularly suited for heavy firepower. Most combat environments were narrow, confined, and face-to-face.
And who could match the Greenskin orks in such an environment?
Elite Greenskin units would massacre their way through the ship. Even if they couldn’t destroy or kill everyone on board, each casualty they inflicted would significantly weaken the ship’s combat capabilities.
If they reached the weapons systems and silenced part of the ship’s firepower, that would already be a win; if they reached the cogitator array, they could paralyze the ship’s automated systems, drastically reducing coordination among its departments; if they reached the engine bay, they could detonate high-performance explosives from within, potentially crippling the ship. And if they made it to the captain’s quarters...
Boarding combat was, of course, a high-risk, high-loss operation, and often the boarding pods and ships were destroyed by interception fire before reaching their targets. But a minor success could cause disruption; a major success could lead to the capture of the ship.
The Greenskins didn’t fear death.
In fact, some small drop pods were already flying over along with the shells.
So far, however, no drop pods had managed to pass through the interception fire. It was estimated that a hundred or two of the little Greenskin boys had perished in the stars.
Yet, Wang Jiarong’s face was still pale.
Though no ork boarding forces had made it onto the starship yet, this bit of good news was hardly worth celebrating.
Seeing the void shield turning purple and watching some shells pierce through it to strike the hull of the starship, she could already feel the vibrations.
The void shield was an energy protection system that intercepted solid shells, energy cannons, and missiles, especially fast-approaching objects and energy. However, it was less effective against slow-moving items.
When fully operational, the void shield’s defensive capabilities—marked by a blue hue—were optimal. But if it sustained too much attack, turning purple, it would start to fail, allowing a certain number of shells and energy beams to slip through.
Initially, this wasn’t a big deal; even if something got through, the weakened impact, when met with the solid physical armor of the starship, could generally be withstood.
However, once the void shield reached its maximum capacity and turned red, the probability of shells bypassing the shield would increase sharply, and its effectiveness in weakening attacks would drop. At that point, it would come down to the strength of the armor and the hull.
Although the void shield was currently transitioning to purple, the starship’s armor was holding up well, and the sporadic attacks that got through hadn’t caused significant damage.
Nonetheless, all of this spelled bad news.
Since the Greenskins began their counterattack, things had been rapidly deteriorating.
The critical issue was that Wang Jiarong had no solution to change the current situation.
"Gu Hang, oh Gu Hang! This time, you've truly gotten me killed! I never should’ve come to this godforsaken place..."
She muttered to herself, her face ashen.
Just then, the starseer suddenly reported, "Captain! We’ve received a communication signal from the Quintet!"
Wang Jiarong froze for a moment, then suddenly felt a surge of joy. “Quickly, patch it through!”
In the next moment, Alicia's voice echoed across the bridge, “This is Alicia Fofana, Navy Commodore of the Empire’s Pegasus Fleet and captain of the Quintet.”
Her clear voice sounded like that of a savior to everyone aboard the *Beautiful Maiden*.
“Alicia! Thank heavens! We finally got in touch! Please, save us!”
Wang Jiarong was so overjoyed she nearly cried.
“I’m right next to you,” Alicia said. “Now, I need your fleet to turn and fire with everything you’ve got at those Greenskin ships. We must destroy them here, while their speed has yet to fully ramp up!”
Wang Jiarong hesitated slightly.
What did she mean by “right next to you”?
Could it be that Alicia had anticipated running into the Greenskin fleet here and had been lying in ambush from the start? Was that why the Quintet had not responded to previous attempts at contact—because it had been in silent stealth mode?
But how did she know in advance?
A flurry of questions buzzed through Wang Jiarong's mind, but they lasted only a moment before she brushed them aside.
Following Alicia’s instructions was their only chance of survival.
Immediately, the four ships of the Beautiful Maiden’s convoy turned and began blasting away, as Alicia had instructed.
Without external help, this would be a suicidal move.
Presenting their broadsides to the enemy was risky.
It allowed the ships to unleash their full firepower, but also made them much larger targets. At extreme distances, in long-range engagements where firepower determined the outcome, this wasn’t much of a concern; when the distance between ships exceeded 100,000 or 150,000 kilometers, the difference between presenting the broadside or the bow to the enemy’s firepower was negligible, though it would increase their own firepower projection by over 30%.
In this stance, the ships couldn’t stay still, either. Moving sideways made them more likely to evade incoming fire.
All in all, it was a balanced offensive tactic.
The Greenskin fleet, charging headlong at them, was undoubtedly employing an aggressive offensive tactic. By closing the distance, both sides’ firepower would significantly increase in both potency and accuracy. They were even willing to sacrifice 20-30% of their firepower for this.
Nonetheless, the Greenskins still had a substantial firepower advantage over the Beautiful Maiden.
They didn’t understand why these shrimp-sized ships suddenly seemed intent on fighting them, but it only excited them further.
Their firepower intensified, and they released even more boarding pods.
Just then, hundreds of missiles shot out of a seemingly empty, pitch-black patch of void in the distance.
The missiles targeted one of the Greenskin destroyers.
A moment later, two massive macro-cannon shells crossed the void and slammed into its energy shield.
The simultaneous impact of the two heavy cannons inflicted significant damage, even on a starship.
The targeted Greenskin destroyer’s energy shield suddenly changed from calm blue to a dangerous purple. Then, seventy of the hundred missiles penetrated the void shield and struck the destroyer.
Seventy explosions erupted across the hull of the Greenskin destroyer, leaving it heavily damaged.
Its energy shield generator might have been damaged in the blast. The purple void shield flickered and then vanished.
If given a bit of time—just a few minutes—the Greenskins could likely restart their energy generator or activate a backup.
However, there was no time for that.
Ten smaller macro-cannon shots followed, with six hitting the destroyer, pounding it fiercely. The damage from these six shots was even more devastating than the seventy missiles, transforming the Greenskin warship into a giant fireball.
A costly destroyer was utterly destroyed.
And this unexpected firepower yielded more than just this result.
Ten more macro-cannon shells targeted a Greenskin frigate, with four hitting it and turning its energy shield red.
The frigate’s energy shield was much weaker than that of the destroyer.
...
On the Quintet’s bridge, Alicia watched the battle feed transmitted
faithfully by the cogitator array. After confirming the results, she didn’t cheer wildly—such behavior was undignified for a captain.
However, she couldn’t help but pump her fist.
The Greenskin warship they had obliterated was her first legitimate combat achievement as a captain.
This accomplishment alone surpassed what many captains in the Pegasus Sector had achieved over their careers.
Since the Pegasus Sector fleet’s establishment, there had been few instances where the Imperial Navy deployed it as a support force, merging it into larger fleets for operations. Other than the seasoned captains who had participated in joint fleet operations, the younger, less experienced officers usually handled low-level missions, at most patrolling neighboring sectors and eradicating small-scale pirates.
What kind of firepower did those space pirates have? At best, they might have a frigate-level pirate ship, which was considered quite formidable. Many simply used regular ships to rob, only daring to target tiny merchant convoys.
Alicia had never even participated in small pirate suppression, which had been a source of ridicule for her.
But from this day forward, no one would dare laugh at her.
Even if she were deployed to a high-intensity warzone, not every veteran captain could claim a record of destroying an enemy destroyer.
Getting an assist alone would be something they’d boast about for years.
And today, she, an often-ridiculed commodore accused of nepotism and rapid promotion, had accomplished this feat.
And it wasn’t just an assist; she was the primary force.
A surprise attack? That was just tactics.
After the initial excitement, Alicia quickly calmed down.
Destroying one of the Greenskins’ three destroyers was a heavy blow to their fleet, but they still had numbers on their side.
The battle was far from over.
Now that the element of surprise was gone, it would be much harder to replicate the previous results in the next round of fire.
The orks had located their position and wouldn’t leave themselves vulnerable. Preemptive ship maneuvers would cause more shots to miss; close-range defensive fire would intercept or deflect some macro-cannon shells in mid-flight.
Of course, as a primary cruiser, the Quintet was well-armed. Its two L-class "Heir’s Wrath" macro-cannons had devastating power against frigate-level ships.
A single hit would overload a frigate’s energy shield.
The slaves and technicians on the Quintet were already working frantically to load the next round; the cogitator array was tirelessly observing and locking onto the fast-moving enemy ships.
Preparing a salvo took time.
And before that, the Quintet would have to endure an incoming barrage.
The “Defender” rapid-fire cannons and “Reflector” interception lasers came to life, countering the ork ship’s firepower, while a wide expanse of blue light appeared around the cruiser.
That was the sight of the void shield activating in response to the assault.
The battle had reached a fever pitch.
The earlier destruction of a destroyer and the overloading of a frigate’s energy shield seemed insignificant at this stage.
At this moment, Alicia couldn’t resist glancing at the man standing not far behind her.
She sighed and said, “Gu Hang, if we lose, you’ll have ruined me.”
Gu Hang smiled. “If we win, this will be the starting point of your road to glory.”