The Minotaurs thought of the Human race as pathetic, subservient beings—menial laborers and cannon fodder used by many races across the galaxy. As a race with no powerful backing, humanity was considered an afterthought, a blight of weakness across the galaxy.

Captain Joran broke the silence: “Admiral, are you sure this isn’t a misidentification? How can Humans be this powerful? Even with the ancient knowledge, how could a race like them absorb such a vast cache and build a fleet like this—a fleet we can’t even hold a candle against?”

“Those are my thoughts as well,” Thorax agreed, skepticism battling his rage. “Given the limits of the Human race, even the inheritance of the Great Ones shouldn’t be absorbable. We, a race superior in both strength and intelligence, haven’t been able to fully unlock the Feather Race archives after millennia. How could a race with a limited lifespan, originating from a region devoid of mana and thus cultivation, absorb it and build this fleet?”

“Furthermore, the the report states they engaged only eleven hundred ships, not the eleven thousand in front of us,”Thorax noted, shaking his head. “This makes me question if this data is speculation with nonexistent context.” His anger spiked, pushing him closer to a blood-lust state.

BOOOM-KRRREEEE! The Taurus Prime was violently impacted by a concentrated attack on its dorsal area. The entire shield flared and dimmed, rippling like water. Though the shield held, the hull structure strained, whining under the immense stress of the impact.

The trembling impact of the attack jolted Thorax from his rage. His blood-lust state receded, and he returned to command focus. “Status on the shield,” he ordered.

“Sir,” a Minotaur officer reported, “we lost 12 percent shield integrity, now at 41 percent. Structural integrity is down 2 percent, standing at 95 percent.”

“Hull integrity lost as well, huh?” Thorax muttered, now calm. His earlier rage was gone, replaced by a cold acceptance. “They’re increasing the intensity. But why now? What has changed?” He squinted at the main holographic display showing the entire battle theater.

He focused on the three-layer battle formation. There were many breaches in the first layer and several gaps in the second, but the third line remained mostly untouched.

“Huh, what’s going on there?” Thorax frowned. The third line ships weren’t moving to close the gaps as ordered. Instead, they were slowly retreating or moving laterally; only a few remained in position. “What’s happening on the third battle line, Captain Joran? Why does it look like they’re abandoning their lines?”

“Sir, it’s like this,” Captain Joran began. “I communicated with the Battle Command back at the star fortress, and the reply was… abnormal.”

“They told me those ships on the third line are bypassing their orders and refusing to engage,” Joran reported. “Worse, Command has labeled them traitors and wants to eliminate them with our own weapons.”

“Worse, Command is now trying to rally loyal ships to target these fellow Minotaurs,” he added, his voice heavy. “There are a few headstrong captains prepared to act on this. If this happens, our entire formation will collapse into chaos, and any probability of survival will be lost.”

“What? When did this start, and why wasn’t I aware of it?” Thorax’s aura began to flare again, but this time, it was held tightly in check—controlled power, not pure rage. He understood the gravity of the situation: Joran was right; internal conflict meant certain annihilation.

“Sir, it happened while you were reading the document,” Joran said, quickly explaining. “I contacted the third line. Their ships report 50 percent hull and shield generator integrity losses.”

“Their ships are barely afloat, sir. Moving laterally puts their hulls in a bad state, much less moving toward the first line where they’d be a sitting target for the Void Fleet. They are unwilling to become cannon fodder for the Command.”

“Among many other reasons,” Joran concluded, his voice grave, “the main one is their refusal to be cannon fodder for a Command whose plan they know nothing about. They’re hearing rumors of high command abandoning ship, and they feel this is hopeless.”

Thorax grew visibly grim. The rumor of high command preparing to escape was the final blow that made his anger burst forth, yet he controlled it instantly. “Does this information hold any weight? Investigate it,” he snapped. “How could such a widespread shift happen in mere minutes? Something is wrong here. Look into it immediately.”

He began ordering other officers to quickly quell the impending chaos throughout the fleet. Thorax was unaware that his efforts were already futile; events had moved too far. Meanwhile, the Shadow Division was starting its own planned escalation, ensuring everything would soon change for the worse

Back in the Hangar Bay of the Taurus Prime, the Shadow Division’s first group was already on the move, having secured the hangar and neutralized all forms of internal surveillance. The communication system was still technically operational but was now entirely under the control of Lyra and her team of nine. This soft control would allow them to feed selective information and minimize fleet suspicion, which a total blackout might have caused.

While the Beta Group secured the network and monitoring systems within the Taurus Prime, the Gamma Group was executing its mission quickly and efficiently.

All Minotaur ships were being primed with explosive devices set to detonate the moment someone attempted takeoff. This was a failsafe to prevent any Minotaur from escaping the ship while the division worked to secure it. Secondly, since these ships were of no use to the first battle group and would be torn up soon anyway, destroying them now was a tactical benefit.

While most were busy, a few Marines, using integrated suit thrusters, reached the overhead duct lines that were part of the life support system. Prying open a part of the duct, they tossed in small, ball-like objects that enlarged to the size of a football, then split again into the size of golf balls. These were directed toward other hangar bays with the goal of attaching to all remaining shuttles and locking off all escape pods.

The same kind of operation was done on three other ships by the 2nd Shadow Division, and the 1st Division was starting its own operation on its three target Dreadnoughts.

Just like that, the initial five minutes for the operation were up. The Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Groups had all performed exceptionally well until now, with nothing happening that might give away their operation. The same was the case for the 1st Shadow Division, who were halfway through their own mission, performing exceptionally well so far.

Back aboard the Taurus Prime Hangar Bay, on board the Stiletto, Captain David, who was paying full attention to the operation done by the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Groups, muttered with a serious face. There was not a hint of relaxation; if anything, he was now even more serious, as the mission was just beginning.

Opening up the comms channel that was shared with all the members of the Alpha, Beta, and Gamma Squads:

“Job well done, Marine. Now stay put and be more alert than relaxed, for the mission has just started. Wait for the others to join us before we start the second phase of the plan here. Be cautious and alert.”

Captain David’s voice, sharp and relentless, echoed in the Marines’ helmet comms:

“Stay alert, more alert than you are now. Your focus must be perfectly sharp. We wait for the rest of the Division to join us before Phase Two. Maintain stealth until further orders; the upcoming moments are dangerous and crucial, demanding your absolute focus.”

David cut the channel. He then systematically switched to a highly secure, broad channel, punching through the fierce electromagnetic interference of the battle and bypassing the localized jamming created by their own devices.

“Shadow Division Two, this is Stiletto,” David transmitted. “First Lieutenant Kaelen, the Hangar Bay is clear and secured. Proceed to the designated location immediately, but maintain high alert for the Minotaurs’ sweeping security checks. Their attention is focused outside, but we can’t rely on that holding.”

A few moments of dead silence later, the stillness in the Hangar Bay was broken, drawing the attention of all the alert, positioned Marines. They were greeted by the familiar sight of their division’s approaching ships.

The first to decloak and enter was the massive Titan-class Frigate, followed by six Phantom Shadow-class Corvettes. The Marines could track the incoming ships even while they were cloaked, thanks to the integrated technological connection between their combat suits and the divisional vessels.

The ship gates opened, and the remaining Marines disembarked, immediately lining up systematically, maintaining their stealth. The 150 new arrivals joined the other 1,030 Marines, who were nestled alongside the Stiletto, their accompanying ships, and the Minotaur logistical vessels.

With 1,180 Void Marines now packed into the Taurus Prime Hangar Bay, the full weight of Phase Two was ready to begin.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep