On December 16, 834 of the Common Era, at 4:57 a.m. Galactic Standard Time, a small but exceptionally brutal ambush had already ended along a transport route on the Talai frontier.
By the time the Silent, still resembling an Alliance nation-class Titan, leisurely arrived at the battlefield, the Imperial escort fleet's wreckage had nearly expanded into a cluster of space debris, guided by the system's radiation and gravity.
Patches of ghostly green crystals still clung to many melted, misshapen armor fragments. They were the result of a chemical reaction caused by the violent collision between antimatter bombs and shield fields. That peculiar energy field had churned for quite some time, as though it had broken down every element in the alloy.
Of course, compared with the fate of his comrades, who had been killed so thoroughly that not a whole corpse remained, the troop transport Steel Fang 7 was still eerily intact.
A huge hole had burst open in the bow of its cylindrical hull. At first glance, it looked like a can that had been twisted open by an invisible giant hand.
The compartments exposed to cosmic radiation were pitch-black, impossible to make out. A few sparkling crystals seemed to drift inside, and at first glance they really did look like will-o'-the-wisps, filled with lingering resentment and despair.
In fact, half an hour earlier, the destroyer Broken Rock Sword 780 had already lost control after its engines went dark. Dragged by gravity, the entire ship had truly seemed to become a sword, plunging headfirst into the troop transport's stern.
Before the weapons magazine in its belly exploded, its sharp bow had already violently pierced three bulkheads. Only then did the explosion occur inside the transport.
Amazingly, though, even with its belly blown open, Steel Fang 7 was still intact,