Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 830, 08.829: 'A Single Strike and a Disengagement'

Just as the intense light and radiation interference from the stellar flare were at their most intense, a dazzling afterimage flashed across the armored glass of the main observation window on the bridge, and a sharp alarm for system overload sounded.

In the enhanced telescope view of Lieutenant Commander Kretschmer, captain of the attack ship E-99, several distorted outlines quietly appeared in the aftershocks of energy.

It's as if a ghost is silently slipping into the material universe from behind the curtain of reality itself.

These are the Ducales, also known as the Dark Eldar raiding ships by the Empire.

Their hulls were as smooth as obsidian, covered with sharp fins and rams, their overall design exuding a morbid elegance and deadly cruelty.

The ship's hull was adorned with the screaming faces and twisted skeletons of countless skinned victims; these gruesome spoils silently testified to their master's atrocities in the cold void.

Their advanced stealth technology—an evil creation combining a reality-distorting shadow field and a mimic engine that actively simulates the surrounding environment—allows them to travel close to the energy waves of flares, using the universe's own rage as their best cover.

However, this does not mean that flares have no impact on the shadow field and the mimicry engine.

From the first day they boarded the attack ship, Commander Cochrane of the escort fleet repeatedly warned them to stay away from the star to avoid being affected by solar flares and solar winds.

However, these audacious aliens probably didn't know that the escort team, from the commander to the two core captains, all came from commerce raiding fleets that made a living by hunting and killing, and were very familiar with the weaknesses of such technology.

From the day they became captains, they studied, imitated, and countered commerce raiding tactics.

"Now!" The captain of the Dark Eldar raiding ship, a lieutenant of the Conspiracy Council's governor, commanded in a hoarse, snake-like voice.

He sat upright on the command seat made of skeletons and living slaves, and waved his long, slender fingers lightly.

"Those 'monkeys' inferior technology has caused them to lose control of their ships in the face of the wrath of space. Prepare leech torpedoes to cripple our carefully selected prey."

Thus began the prelude to a plunder and destruction.

The core of the tactics of these monstrous hunters in the void is a special type of ammunition known as "leech torpedoes".

These torpedoes are not designed to completely destroy their targets, but rather to capture them. Upon impact, they do not trigger a violent explosion, but instead release an energy-absorbing field while simultaneously injecting a corrosive digital toxin into the ship's main control systems.

Under its corrosive influence, the target's engine relays will burn out instantly, turning a starship several kilometers long into an iron coffin helplessly floating in the void.

In such circumstances, the Imperial Navy escorting the ships often had no choice but to reluctantly abandon these lone vessels in order to protect the majority of the merchant ships, leaving them to be dragged into the darkness.

Once these weakly defended ships are abandoned by the fleet, they will become easy prey for the Dark Eldar raiders, and their crews will have no choice but to await capture and return to Comoros, where they will suffer endless torture in that nightmarish city.

"Launch the leech torpedoes," the ship's captain ordered again, his voice laced with bloodthirsty pleasure. "The hunt begins."

Following the order, the weapon hatches on the side of the attack ship slid open silently.

Two jet-black torpedoes were launched by gravity thrusters, leaving no visible trails, and pounced on the merchant ships that had been briefly rendered powerless by the flare impact like hungry venomous snakes.

At the same moment, Kretschmer, aboard the attack ship E-99, also gave his orders.

"Operations Department, target locked."

With this order issued, the oppressive atmosphere on the bridge instantly transformed into efficient and deadly busy activity.

The officers' fingers blurred across their respective control consoles as they loudly confirmed commands in concise, abstract terminology.

"Yes, sir! Torpedo course locked, awaiting your orders!"

"Launch!" A slight but muffled tremor came from the hull as two gleaming Helios-type torpedoes were launched from their launch tubes by the electromagnetic catapult.

They are enormous and heavy.

But it is not a stupid cannonball; rather, it is a hound endowed with a mechanical mind, a tool of revenge blessed by the Cult of Machines.

Their thermal seekers instantly locked onto the rapidly rising engine heat signals of the Dark Eldar raiding ships in the frigid void, while their remote fuses silently awaited the final command from the mothership.

With a silent ignition of chemical propellant, the torpedo's tail spewed out scorching plasma, drawing two vengeful trails in the dark universe as it hurtled towards the alien predators who had just finished their hunt and were about to savor their prey.

In that instant, the roles of hunter and prey were completely reversed.

In the plane below the fleet, another bayonet-class attack ship, E-103, commanded by Lieutenant Commander Pierre Dumanor Le Pelli, also launched an attack at the same time.

The two attack ships took the initiative, launching a volley of Helios torpedoes at different alien attack ships.

"Invisible savage monkeys have launched torpedoes at us!" a Dark Eldar observer screamed, his eyes, modified by the Bloodlings, catching the deadly threat. "But how can these savage monkeys be invisible?"

"This is a trap! Retreat! Prepare for short-range warp!" The governor's voice lost its previous elegance and became sharp and shrill.

"No! There are many friendly ships lying in wait around us. A short-range warp will cause us to collide with them!" another helmsman replied desperately. Their perfect ambush formation had now become a cage imprisoning them.

"In that case, fire all the Leech Torpedoes at the merchant ships to disable their propulsion! Call in the other soldiers to fire Sickle Missiles in the direction the torpedoes were launched!" The alien commander issued a final, frantic order.

"Torpedoes number three and four, fire!" Lieutenant Colonel Kretzmer coldly and ruthlessly issued the order, his voice echoing in the bridge without a ripple.

With precise coordination, the two attack ships launched another salvo of torpedoes.

A minute later, another volley of torpedoes was launched in a crisscross pattern towards the void behind the enemy ships, completely blocking their retreat.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! —

The piercing alarm sounded throughout the entire escort fleet, and all merchant ships went on high alert.

Although they are not heavily armed, with most having only a single light macro gun on the stern, they still have a row of close-in weapon systems on their sides for self-defense, with considerable firepower, no less than that of a Sword-class escort ship.

As the alarm blared and echoed through the ship's cramped and narrow passageways, the crew members, dressed in simple work clothes, rushed to their close-in weapon systems (CIWS) positions.

They knew that these weapons were not very effective in real interstellar naval warfare, but their quantity would eventually lead to a qualitative change, at least enough to take down some torpedoes instead of waiting to be destroyed, thus buying the navy valuable response time.

The aliens also began a desperate fight, with streaks of dark purple malevolent trails shooting out – torpedoes and scythe missiles they launched in desperation.

These attackers were numerous, ruthless, and fired dozens of rounds in a salvo.

After launching the torpedoes, these attack ships then used their prized maneuverability to scatter and flee.

Of course, this is not a real escape, but rather a strike-and-dash tactic that the Durucis and his ilk are adept at.

By launching close-range raids to cripple some ships, the Imperial Navy was forced to abandon its escort duties for them.

This process slowly erodes the merchant fleet, reducing the number of surviving ships in the fleet to fewer and fewer.

(End of this chapter)