Intergalactic conquest with an AI
Chapter 402 - 402: Weapons free. {2}

The head maid didn't turn to look at him. Her eyes remained on the sleeping child, but her voice, although soft, was firm.

"Well done. Maintain the illusion. Keep the city calm and routine. No unnecessary violence, no chaos. The last thing we need is to draw attention. Everything must look normal... for her sake... and his."

Her hand continued to gently caress the child's head, and the little girl murmured softly in her sleep, unaware of the storm swirling around her.

The Shadow leader's red eyes glowed faintly as he watched the interaction. Something about the calmness in the maid's voice, her tenderness, and the way she protected the child stirred a flicker of curiosity... maybe even suspicion.

He closed his eyes slightly, as if thinking deeply before speaking.

"I hope your loyalty still belongs to the Kaelzars," he said, his voice sounding colder this time. "The princess and the young emperor deserve only the most loyal servants."

And with that, he vanished into the shadows once more, without a sound, without a trace.

The room returned to silence.

For a long moment, the maid-bot didn't move. Her fingers stopped mid-stroke, hovering above the girl's soft hair. The words he left behind lingered in the air like an invisible weight pressing down.

But then, after a deep, almost weary sigh, she resumed her gentle movements, as if brushing away more than just hair.

Like this, a few more hours slipped by quietly, each one dragging on as the infiltration team continued to send back carefully crafted reports.

These reports were designed specifically to mislead, keeping the admiral of the treasure fleet completely blind to the real situation unfolding on the surface of Planet Kator. Every update was like a veil, keeping the truth hidden behind false calm.

The admiral in question was none other than Cetus Blackthorn, a man who, while not born a commander, held power because of his bloodline. He was one of the thousands of cousins connected to the influential CEO of Nexum Dynamics.

In a galaxy ruled by corporations and legacy names, blood often mattered more than skill. Still, there was one important reason why Cetus had risen to command one of the massive treasure fleets... trust.

The CEO, Percival, only placed trust in people his mother had personally approved of, and Cetus was one of the rare few who had earned that stamp of loyalty from the matriarch.

As Cetus stood aboard his flagship, the Cetus Dreadnought, a massive warship armored in shimmering black alloys and studded with weaponry, an officer approached him with urgency in his steps.

"Admiral, we've detected wormhole activity from one of our deep-space probes," the officer said while saluting before pointing to a glowing holo-screen. "The disturbance is approximately thirty kilometers away from our current position."

Cetus raised an eyebrow and leaned closer to the display, studying the swirling coordinates. "Is it a trade convoy? Possibly one of ours?" he asked, his voice calm but alert.

"Negative, sir," the officer responded, tapping through data overlays. "The readings show that the wormhole is growing larger by the second. Trade convoys normally don't open wormholes of this size."

"Since it would be too risky, they'd attract unwanted attention from pirates or mercenary raiders. Whatever this is... it's something else entirely."

Although Cetus had received his admiralship thanks to his family ties, he was no novice when it came to fleet command.

He had spent many years fighting against notorious pirate kings in the outer systems and had personally led operations to destroy fortified asteroid bases filled with rogue AIs and cybernetic warlords. He had seen his fair share of trickery, double-crosses, and surprise attacks.

Because of all that, Cetus had developed a mindset of extreme caution. In his eyes, anything that moved in space, be it a comet, a cargo hauler, or a drifting escape pod, was a potential threat until proven otherwise. Even his own shadow didn't escape his suspicion.

Without a hint of hesitation, he gave the order. "Turn the fleet. All ships, assume defensive formation. Shields up. Prepare for possible contact. We will hold position and await further instructions from High Command."

As he spoke, his sharp gaze remained locked on the growing wormhole. The space around it shimmered with unstable energy. Something was coming through and he intended to be ready for it.

Upon receiving the admiral's orders, the massive treasure fleet immediately began to shift formation. Each vessel responded with military precision, falling into their designated positions to form a full defensive line.

The larger ships, known for their thick armor and high-powered energy shields, moved to the front to act as a protective barrier for the lighter support ships and cruisers in the rear. It was a time-tested strategy, often used in battles where danger could arrive in an instant from an unknown source.

"Sir! The wormhole has already surpassed the size limit recorded for even a super capital-class ship!" one of the officers suddenly shouted. His voice was filled with alarm as he pulled up a real-time feed of the anomaly on the holo-screen.

Cetus turned his eyes to the screen and narrowed them. The wormhole displayed there was no ordinary breach in space; it was massive. Enormous waves of spatial energy pulsed from it, and its size continued to grow by the second.

The blue-and-gold swirl of the event horizon had become a spinning maw, almost like an eye staring directly at them.

The admiral said nothing for a few moments. He stood still, deep in thought, weighing his options with a cold, calculating stare. There were only two paths he could take.

The first option: wait, hold the line, and see what emerges from the wormhole. But that was a gamble, since whatever was coming might be something powerful enough to crush the entire fleet.

The second option: act now. Fire everything they had and try to force the wormhole to collapse before anything had a chance to come through. It was risky... but less risky than waiting.

Cetus made his choice.

"Fire one thousand nuclear torpedoes into that wormhole," he ordered with a voice like iron. "Destroy the damn thing before it spits out something that turns us into space dust. I don't want to know what's on the other side."

With those words, Cetus slowly stood up from his high-backed command chair and walked with quiet intensity toward the thick, reinforced glass of the command bridge window.

The armored viewing screen stretched across the entire front of the dreadnought, offering a clear view of the fleet and the distant wormhole. He could already see the missile bays on several ships preparing to open.

Then came the confirmation from the ship's AI system.

[Nuclear weaponry protocol initiated. Authorization granted.][One thousand torpedoes armed. Remote detonation link stable.][Launching bays opening... All systems green. Awaiting final confirmation.]

A glowing holo-screen appeared in front of him. Two buttons lit up.[CONFIRM LAUNCH] and [CANCEL].

Cetus didn't hesitate. This wasn't the first time he'd used nuclear weapons in space combat. He knew the cost, and he understood the stakes. With a cold expression, he pressed Confirm.

The bridge shook slightly, not from damage, but from sheer power as torpedo hatches across the dreadnought and its accompanying ships blasted open. Hundreds of long, needle-like nuclear torpedoes fired out in synchronized waves, streaking across the dark void of space like glowing stars being born in reverse.

More torpedoes followed moments later, another wave of a hundred, then another, and another. In total, over a thousand nuclear warheads were now on a direct course toward the ever-growing wormhole.

"How long until the torpedoes reach their target?" Cetus asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the streaks of light crossing the stars.

"Based on current velocity and vector path… ten minutes, Admiral," one of the officers responded, his voice steady, but with a hint of tension beneath it.

"Good," Cetus replied, still staring forward. "Let's see if we can kill this thing before it kills us."

And so, the countdown began, not just for the torpedoes, but for whatever fate awaited them inside that glowing rift in space.

And so, after what felt like an eternity, the ten minutes finally passed. The thousands of nuclear torpedoes fired earlier now reached the edge of the enormous wormhole. One by one, they vanished into the swirling abyss of space-time.

"Brace for impact!" shouted one of the bridge officers, his voice sharp with urgency. A second later, the entire horizon lit up.

A colossal explosion ignited within the wormhole, flooding the entire region of space with blinding white light.

Every screen dimmed to compensate, and every crew member instinctively gripped onto their consoles, rails, or whatever they could hold. The sheer intensity of the light seemed to reach through the reinforced windows, washing over everything like a second sun.

Then came the shockwave.

A deep, invisible force rippled outward from the epicenter of the detonation like a tsunami made of space itself. The front-line dreadnoughts and cruisers held firm, their reinforced shields flaring bright with energy.

But the smaller escort ships and recon frigates weren't so lucky. Many were flung off course, spinning uncontrollably. Two collided mid-space, erupting into flames and debris.

Others lost engine control and drifted into one another, causing sparks, hull breaches, and bursts of emergency signals across the fleet.

It took several long minutes before the light began to fade, returning the void of space to its usual cold darkness. The wormhole, or what remained of it, could no longer be seen.

"Confirm the destruction of the wormhole," Admiral Cetus Blackthorn ordered as he calmly deactivated his power armor's helmet, revealing his stern, battle-hardened face.

He stepped forward with the slow confidence of a man who had survived many space battles, believing the worst was now behind them.

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