These were the first foreign fleets to enter the Galactic Empire's capital after the dawn of the great age of spacefaring.
They were not a large force, only the size of a local squadron. In a decisive fleet battle that determined the fate of great powers, they would not even qualify for an auxiliary role—at best, they would be cannon fodder filling out the lines.
And yet, they had come. Their very presence was like an invisible psychic shock wave sweeping through every Imperial citizen who witnessed the scene, bringing their thoughts to a standstill.
Soldiers, nobles, and commoners alike—even all kinds of observers.
It was the self-preservation mechanism of civilization and human nature. It was only natural.
They stood there dumbstruck, like statues turned to stone, watching the entire jump unfold.
The first ships to enter the battlefield were three Ranger-class cruisers, their lines steady and their hulls equipped with an abundance of reactive shields and flak cannons. Originally designed as "medium all-purpose armed merchant ships," these warships had now become the most famous light cruisers in the galaxy. They had even eclipsed the Empire's Aegis-class and the Alliance's Suppression-class in popularity.
Indeed, in any era, a weapon's worth should be measured not by its specifications, but by its record.
What? You say the Alliance designed these warships?
That didn't matter anymore. The Commonwealth had mastered the design, and even the shipyards in New Shenzhou, built only two or three years ago, had begun laying keels to construct them. They were building twenty at a time.
By now, the entire universe recognized the Ranger-class as a representative warship of the people of Earth.
Just as they had in countless battles before, the ships quickly maneuvered with precision as soon as they emerged from jump, spreading out along the edge