Warhammer: Hail to the Void Lords!.

Chapter 834, 08.833: ​​'Vicious Trajectory'

On the holographic battle map, dozens of scarlet hostile markers suddenly lit up, trailing vicious trajectory lines, heading straight for the Swift Eagle.

Horatio could tell that the trajectory of the incoming torpedoes was not a chaotic barrage, but a meticulously woven net.

There is no doubt that the attackers were a group of cunning and experienced hunters.

Their coordinated firing angles were outrageously tricky, and their numbers were distributed in an astonishingly reasonable manner.

No matter how fast the Swift Eagle maneuvers or how standard S-shaped evasive maneuvers it executes, there are always four to five torpedoes forming an insurmountable blockade ahead of her course, posing a deadly threat to at least one critical area of ​​the ship—the reactor, engines, or bridge.

Even when attempting to evade by adjusting the ship's plane of view, the upper plane was obscured by the massive wreckage of the merchant fleet, while the lower plane was completely blocked by another wave of torpedoes.

In this desperate situation, the Swift Eagle seemed destined to suffer at least one devastating blow.

If these leech torpedoes can hit the ship's propulsion or energy components, they can turn it into a cold iron coffin floating in the void.

At that time, these Comorian raiders lurking in the darkness will have a thousand ways to blow the broken-legged warship to rubble or capture it and drag it into that painful, dark city.

This is why these aliens prefer small, fast attack craft—if they can cripple their opponents, even an ant can hunt an elephant.

Even a battleship that is proud of its existence is nothing more than livestock waiting to be slaughtered in the void once its legs are broken.

As an attack commander who has survived countless perilous battles, the more dangerous the situation, the more his mind races under the influence of adrenaline.

Even with less than a minute to process the information, his consciousness had already deeply linked with the ship's mechanical soul through the command throne. Then, relying on the central fire control processor composed of dozens of large Thinker arrays, and with the assistance of the fire control officer, he marked each incoming torpedo with a different threat level with an efficiency that mortals could not match.

First were the torpedoes that were directly on the Swift Eagle's planned course.

Horatio used pure intention to give these targets the highest priority, guiding the ship's close-in weaponry to intercept them.

"Close-in weapon system, fire on the targeted torpedoes first, clear the navigation path!" His order echoed in the bridge and was also transformed into a torrent of data that surged into all the ship's weapon systems.

The roar of the rotary cannons echoed across the ship's armored hull as the Dreadnought-class light cruiser unleashed scorching flames from more than a dozen different turret positions, weaving an impenetrable barrage of bullets toward every high-threat target.

In mid-air, two torpedoes were struck by intersecting fire.

There was no sound, only two dazzling, silent orbs of light suddenly exploding. The energy-absorbing material inside the torpedoes, at the moment of detonation, formed an energy void that swallowed up light, leaving a pitch-black blind spot in the view of the ship's close-in weapon system, providing perfect cover for other torpedoes.

Several surviving torpedoes sped out from the man-made darkness.

Dukali's tactics were clear: sacrifice some torpedoes to ensure the rest hit their targets.

"Thirty degrees to port, high-energy turn! Quick!" Horatio shouted, his voice ringing out loudly in the tense atmosphere of the bridge.

The helmsman immediately spun the rudder hard, but in reality, the roar was directed at the illusion in the machine's vision.

Deep within his consciousness, connected to the machine's soul, the phantom of a fair-skinned girl, symbolizing the ship's core logic, danced gracefully on a misty lake composed of data.

With a sharp alarm, she lightly touched the surface of the lake with her toes, and with a graceful leap, she steered the massive ship onto a new course.

The light cruiser's starboard thrusters spewed out three blinding streaks of plasma fire.

The rudder and firepower array of this giant ship respond in unison, as if it were not a steel structure weighing several trillion tons, but a direct manifestation of its mechanical spirit and will.

The 4.5-kilometer-long hull swept across in an elegant yet deadly arc, narrowly avoiding a torpedo that passed beneath its stern.

This time, the maneuvering was so extreme that the high-energy plasma stern flames from the ship's engines burned the lightning body, creating another cloud of black mist in the void that light could not penetrate.

However, avoiding one trap often means falling into another.

At this moment, the port side of the Swift Skyhawk was completely exposed to the path of the other three torpedoes.

"Evasion failed! Three torpedoes are expected to hit the port side soon!"

"All close-in weapon systems, abandon intercepting other targets! Concentrate firepower to intercept the three high-threat torpedoes on the port side! Chassis commander, continue hard port! Propulsion department, engine overload to 200%, all energy supplied to the high-energy steering system!" Horatio's orders came one after another. "Captain, the engines are overheating, the overload rate has reached 130%! Forcing it to 200% may cause the reactor to overheat and trigger a chain explosion!" A junior lieutenant who had just boarded the ship couldn't help but shout anxiously, still strictly following the knowledge in the standards manual to deal with the time.

"Shut your mouth, Lieutenant. Follow orders and don't question the captain's judgment!" the power department captain snapped.

His hands moved steadily on the control panel, his eyes filled with unwavering trust in the captain and the warship.

"Trust this warship, Lieutenant." Horatio closed his eyes, sensing the ship's condition solely through his mind pulse unit, and calmly replied, "She fought against all sorts of aliens during my father's service."

She survived, and she can do it again this time.

Moreover, whether we are hit by a leech torpedo or the reactor explodes, we will only face certain death.

I would rather die in the Emperor's blazing light than become a plaything of aliens among the Comoros's spires.

The captain's words acted as a tranquilizer, instantly quelling the small commotion on the bridge.

"Reactor overload 200%! All personnel on alert! Activate magnetic boots! Grab anything you can hold onto!" The power department captain's roar echoed throughout the ship's communication system.

*Whoosh!*

The Swift Eagle suddenly twisted its entire hull in a tricky, almost right-angled trajectory.

This was a brutal "ironclad warship" maneuver that pushed the ship's structural strength to its limit.

The powerful acceleration threw all the officers and soldiers who hadn't activated their magnetic boots in time violently out of the cabin, slamming them heavily against the bulkhead with a series of dull impacts.

The close-in weapon turrets on both sides opened fire wildly at extreme angles, each destroying a leech torpedo that was heading towards the Swift Eagle.

Two more silent, light-devouring shadow flowers bloomed in the void once more.

But the last, and most lethal, came straight at the bow from a blind spot that was not covered by close-in weaponry.

"The torpedo is on our starboard bow! It's going to hit!" The observer in the forward lookout tower shouted, his voice cracking, but he remained remarkably calm in such a critical situation.

It seems that everyone has done their best to prevent the tragedy from happening.

However, a torpedo was about to hit the bow of the Swift Eagle at extremely close range, and the outcome seemed inevitable.

At this moment, no one except the person controlling the rudder can interfere with the final outcome.

The bridge, which had been bustling with activity, instantly fell into a deathly silence, with only the sharp whine of overloaded engines and the ominous pulsation of the reactor core remaining.

"Turn left 30 degrees! Straighten the rudder! Full starboard!" Suddenly, the captain's voice broke the silence, clear and decisive.

"Turn left thirty degrees! Straighten the rudder! Full right!!!" The experienced helmsman did not hesitate at all. His hands flew across the control panel like afterimages, seizing the last few seconds to make the final fine-tuning.

The Ducalli Leech torpedo, like the scythe of death, hurtled toward the bow of the ship.

Those on the forward lookout tower at the top of the bow could clearly see the hideous appearance of this malevolent creation.

Like its elegant yet malevolent mothership, it is shaped like a delicate hairpin, like a weapon used by a female assassin to stab her victim in the heart.

It has barbed blades on all four sides, the blades are as black as ink, and they emit a cold light under the faint starlight. The tail spews out ominous black and red flames.

"It's coming!!" A desperate cry came through the communication tower on the bow.

The Swift Skyhawk's bow armor, undergoing a sharp turn, was tangential to the torpedo's trajectory. The light cruiser had given it its all, but it seemed unable to completely evade it.

Horatio's eyes were fixed on the weapon emitting black and red flames at the stern. He had made two preparations: if he couldn't dodge it, then he would let the heavy adamantite bow shield of the ship come into play.

(End of this chapter)