The traitor Fleet's desperate counterattack shattered like waves against a reef before the Imperial Fleet's tightly ordered, efficient formation.
Of the five Lunar-class Cruisers that had launched a suicidal charge, one was destroyed and two were badly damaged. The surviving ships were finally driven back by the dense web of fire and the fearless advance of Imperial vessels, dragging their battered hulls into the fleeing main formation, no longer able to mount effective resistance.
Now the heart of the traitor Fleet, the Sandstorm, lay fully exposed to the wolves' cold eyes and fangs, like an elk isolated from its herd and driven into a corner.
"Lock onto the enemy ship's engine array! Concentrate fire and break its legs!" Company Captain Beowulf's roar echoed across the bridge of the Snow of the North.
His thick finger nearly stabbed into the red dot representing the Sandstorm on the holographic star chart.
The order was executed instantly.
Several Cruisers equipped with the Fleet's finest lance batteries adjusted their orientation slightly. The long-barreled weapons along their flanks began gathering terrifying energy, blue light growing brighter within their barrels as though several ominous stars had been kindled in the Void.
Even through the hulls and the Void, the hum of charging weapons seemed capable of shaking an observer's very marrow.
Whoosh!
Several intensely focused, searing white beams of destructive energy tore through the darkness. Their trajectories were almost perfectly precise as they struck the stern of the Sandstorm, which was maneuvering desperately to evade them.
The traitor flagship's Void shields had already taken too many hits during the pursuit and rearguard action. Their energy output had long since become unstable, and shield generator overload alarms had probably been blaring on its bridge for some time.
Now, under this concentrated and lethally precise barrage, the translucent