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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/SciFiTime on 2024-06-16 15:57:05+00:00.

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Captain Carson stood on the bridge of the United Earth ship Thunder, gazing out the viewing ports at the vast armada assembled before him. Over two hundred Earth ships floated in orderly rows, their hulls gleaming in the light cast by Saturn’s rings. It had taken months to coordinate the movements of so many vessels, pulling them from patrols, exercises, and shore leave across the solar system. But at last, Operation Lightning Storm was ready to commence.

A cadet approached Carson and handed him a data pad. “Reports from all ships, sir. Weapons and propulsion systems are hot, hyperspace drives are charged and synced. The fleet is ready on your command.” Carson scrolled through the readiness checks, his experienced eye ensuring no details were overlooked. Everything appeared in order.

“Thank you Ensign, Inform fleet command I will address the crews.” The cadet nodded and hurried away. Carson tapped a button on the command pedestal, activating the ship wide address system. “This is Captain Carson. For months we have tracked the movements and supply lines of the Togrun Empire, seeking their moment of vulnerability. Our analysts have now identified such an opportunity, in the form of their main shipyards located deep in the Delta Nebula. We have the element of surprise, and the firepower to devastate these facilities. Strike hard and fast, show no mercy, and cripple their ability to wage further war against humanity and her allies. Godspeed to you all. Operation Lightning Storm, commence on my order!”

Carson cut the transmission and turned to his XO. “Ensign Jacobs, initiate the jump to hyperspace on my mark. Helm, lay in the course for the Delta Nebula.” The ensign and pilot acknowledged. Carson took a deep breath, steeling himself for the battle to come. His brow furrowed in deep thought, weighing the risks against the potential reward. After a long moment, he snapped into action. “Mark! All ships, jump to hyperspace on my command. Three, two, one… engage!”

The Thunder lurched as its powerful Slipstream engines engaged, dragging the massive vessel from normal space in the blink of an eye. Around it, another two hundred blips vanished from long range scanners as the armada also transcended to the realm of hyperspace. During the tense minutes of distorted travel, Carson pored over sensor recordings and fleet deployment maps, committing each detail to memory. Finally, the navigational computer signalled their imminent exit from the slip speed.

“Five seconds to real space, Captain,” reported the helmsman. “Sensors are detecting a large nebula dead ahead. Switching to electromagnetic scans.” Electronic eyes pierced the obscuring gas and dust, revealing dozens of ships scattered amidst drifting rocks and clouds. “There, multiple vessels of Togrun configuration in the ringed gas giant’s fifth orbital position. Matching profiles to intelligence, I’m reading two heavy cruisers and over thirty support craft.”

“As expected. Helm, bring us out of hyperspace perpendicular to the planetary ecliptic, thirty degrees yaw starboard. All ships, hold position until my attack command.” acknowledge lights flickered on Carson’s dashboard. At the precise moment, reality snapped back into focus around the Thunder with a shimmer. Before them, the vast Delta Nebula swirled in colorful ribbons, concealing entire star systems within. Dead ahead, a foreign armada floated oblivious in regular patrol formations. Their sensors had failed to detect the incoming invaders.

It was time to strike. “Target the nearest cruiser and fire at will. All ships, weapons free, engage the enemy!” Scarlet beams lanced out from the Thunder’s forward batteries, slicing through wispy gas to envelop the lead Togrun ship. Secondary explosions rippled across its hull as internal shields collapsed. Meanwhile, two hundred other ships decloaked and opened fire simultaneously in a dazzling crossfire. Caught utterly by surprise, the Togrun defenses were shattered before they could respond. Return salvos went wide as panicking crews scrambled to answer the sudden ambush.

“Victory class cruiser disabling on our target, moving to the next. Casualty reports from the fleet, no losses so far!” reported the weapons officer excitedly. Carson watched coldly as the second cruiser was quickly dismantled under the onslaught. Smaller Togrun ships attempted to retreat but were mercilessly harried down. Within minutes, the entire patrol element had been annihilated, their burning hulks drifting among the rocks. A quick scan of the system revealed nearly two dozen more ships in drydock or anchored to the ringed gas giant’s moons.

Carson paused, savoring the moment. After so much strategic planning and coordinated effort, the first blow against their enemies had been struck, utterly devastating the enemy in their own headquarters. A message was being sent today, that humanity would show no mercy in this war. He activated the fleetwide comm. “Thunder to squadrons Alpha through Foxtrot. Move to engage the shipyards and remaining vessels. No prisoners, total destruction of targets. For Earth and her people!”

The replying acknowledgment lights lit up his board like a festival. Two hundred attack wings peeled away from the Thunder in tight arrowhead formations, veering off towards separate objectives among the moons and asteroids. Within minutes additional explosions lit the murky nebula as the undefended shipyards and docks were obliterated. Some Togrun crews managed to get underway, launching in panic or attempt to flee, but were cut down under the precise crossfire. None would survive, to warn their enemies of this day.

An hour after the first shot, it was over. Not a single Togrun vessel remained spaceworthy in the system. Scans revealed catastrophic damage to the industrial facilities on the moons, which would take years to rebuild even with Slipstream assistance. Carson allowed himself a thin smile. Though the war was far from won, today humanity had delivered a crushing blow to their enemy. Word of the ambush would spread fear and doubt, among the feather hierarchy. And in the process, Earth’s armed forces had gained invaluable combat experience, fighting in a major engagement. All in all, a very successful first strike.

The bridge of the Thunder fell silent as Captain Carson gazed at the tactical display. Pulsing markers indicated the positions of the two fleets, facing off across the turbulent Orion Belt. His eyes tracked over sensor readings, analyzing the dense asteroid field, filling the region. It was the perfect place for an ambush, but their enemy knew that as well.

“Receiving a message from Admiral Soto, Captain,” reported the comm officer. “His scouts report the main Togrun battlegroup has assembled here as predicted. Estimated at 12 capital ships, guarded by 35 escort vessels.”

Carson grunted acknowledgment. It was a sizable force, even outnumbered five to one by Earth’s armada. “Inform Soto we hold position for now. I want to observe enemy movements under these conditions.”

The Orion Belt lived up to its name, its rocky plane dazzling with the red glow of impacts, as planetoids collided at high velocities. Navigating such volatility unscathed would be challenge enough. But the Togrun fleet glided methodically through, guided by seasoned pilots familiar with the local chaos.

Their formation had Carson’s full attention. The capital ships hung back, while escorts probed forward, dispersing systematically to sweep for any ambush. It was a cautious but sensible approach, under the circumstances. And it gave Carson an intimate view of Togrun protocols, including one telltale quirk.

“Note how the escorts funnel back to their flagship after each sweep. Almost like clockwork,” he murmured, more to himself than his officers. But it sparked an idea forming at the edge of thought. “Helm, lay in an intercept course behind our eighth planetoid. Stay well back until I give the word.”

As the hours passed, Carson watched keenly from behind distant cover rock. The Togrun fleet inched inward, escorts flitting ahead in rotating waves. Each withdrew precisely after twenty minutes, converging back into protective formation. A strange pattern, yet familiarity had assured them of false security. Until now.

“All squadrons stand ready,” ordered Carson tersely as the next escort wave peaked outwards. “As soon as the last ship returns, unleash the Kraken.” Squad leader acknowledgements lit his console, then winked out to complete radio silence. Long-range weapons crews readied, while fighter bays pressurized. Everything balanced on that tiny window.

Precisely on schedule, the final escort broke from its partners, and banked towards the flagship. But before it could rejoin, thunder crackled across the Orion Belt. Two hundred Earth ships dropped stealth, and opened coordinated fire, multiple salvos shearing through the ships in a heartbeat. Its destruction was merely the opening statement.

Squadrons Alpha through Epsilon powered into the void like hornets from their nest, capitalizing on the Togrun’s paralyzed shock. Hellbore turrets pulsed measured death among the escorts, as fighters swarmed overhead in tight knife-formations. Within moments chaos reigned across what had been orderly rows. The ambush was sprung flawlessly, yet the true test was only beginning.

Admiral Grel recovered fastest from the surprise, init…

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