Star Wars: From the Clone Wars to Starfaring Heroes

Chapter 90 - Suppression
The gap between the front lines and the rear was now starkly exposed to everyone.

Although the "Sol" fleet was the largest of the three fleets, it was also the slowest and most sluggish.

The Mardrud Combat Squadron and the Jospro Combat Squadron, especially the Jospro Squadron, had not had much direct confrontation with the Republic Fleet in previous battles.

Their crew members also seemed more willing to maintain this "safe" state.

Despite the vulture robot fighters pouring out of the bulky "Himilsia Heavy Carriers" like a flood breaking through a dam, the carriers themselves slowly shrank behind the fleet, maintaining a fairly "safe" distance from the auxiliary columns.

Vinok took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the turmoil in his heart.

He recalled the skills he had lost during his brief descent into the dark side.

But after regaining his faith in the Force, he learned how to maintain his inner calm under immense pressure.

He really wanted to roar at those passive, war-avoiding Himilsia people, but he knew it would be a complete waste of energy, as futile as roaring at the vacuum of space.

Vinok tried hard to recall the name and face of his Jedi mentor... but his memory was as if covered by a thick layer of dust, becoming blurry and indistinct.

Oh well, maybe this is for the best.

Now, his entire world consisted only of the piercing beeping of the tactical repeater, the dazzling flashes on the sensor panel, the deep rumble of the sub-light engine, and the sharp whistling of torpedo warheads tearing through the void.

However, fate seemed to be on his side.

The "Thor" fleet's limp appearance led the "Long Spear Fleet" to make an unexpected decision.

The Republic redeployed its most powerful striking force to the very forefront of the offensive!

Vinok even began to suspect that the Himrishniacs had deliberately hidden the aircraft carrier so far back.

They hid so well that even the enemy didn't discover their existence.

Just then, the stern signal lights of a massive "Divine Will" class cruiser ahead of the "Crying Sun" began to flash rapidly, emitting a series of complex bright and dark codes.

"The 'Clem' fleet is requesting fighter support," the TJ-912's electronic voice translated flatly. "Commander, should we respond?"

Vinok quickly glanced at the advance of his own fighter group on the tactical screen; they were rushing toward the center of the battlefield like a moving metallic nebula.

"Respond, tell them that our fighter jets...have arrived."

No sooner had he finished speaking than an astonishing scene unfolded.

Hundreds of thousands of robotic fighter jets with their engines whistling, like a steel torrent driven by an invisible force, fiercely pierced through the gaps in the formation of their own fleet!
They rampaged through the narrow, suffocating passageways between the massive hulls, fearlessly charging toward the distant enemy!

In an instant, along the entire battle line of the Allied fleet, the images on countless tactical displays flickered and distorted wildly, emitting a piercing hissing sound of electricity.

The formation identification image instantly collapsed. The intense electromagnetic interference and particle turbulence generated by the engines of nearly a million Vulture robot fighters, Hyena bombers, and Scarab robot fighters almost caused all the warships' targeting computers and sensors to collectively "go blind"!
Even a sophisticated tactical robot like the TJ-912 cannot effectively coordinate such an astronomical number of targets on a screen, let alone the brain of an organic life form.

But robotic fighters don't require complex command; they are only proficient in one thing.

The instructions given to them by the Himrsia were simple, brutal, and direct.

Charge forward and overwhelm the enemy!

The fighter squadron executed the order with utmost thoroughness.

The entire swarm of aircraft, like a steel swarm of insects with the same destructive will, rushed towards the Republic's fleet with an aura of devouring everything!
Just as the last few "Jester-class" space destroyers of the Republic Fleet had completed their battle formation and their bow turrets were spitting out scorching turbine laser beams for the first time, this death storm composed of robots swept in like a plague!

Dense Republican-point defensive artillery fire and exploding Tibana energy beams tore brief gaps in this seemingly endless torrent of black metal.

But the gap was fleeting, immediately filled and submerged by the continuous stream of fighter jets that followed.

The laser beams swept back and forth frantically, trying to cut off the overwhelming array of machines, but it was all in vain, like a drop in the ocean.

The aircraft swarm crashed into the rearguard formation of the Republic's fleet at a terrifying relative speed of 50,000 kilometers per second!

In just a few seconds, the blinding flashes of light from the explosions merged into one!
More than twenty "Victory-class" star destroyers and over forty escort ships were instantly torn apart and twisted, turning into huge steel wrecks floating in the void!

The wave of destruction shows no sign of stopping, continuing to surge toward the next target!
"It was a truly... horrific death."

Vinok muttered to himself, the disturbance of the Force making him feel as if he could "hear" the desperate screams of countless lives bursting forth at the last moment.

He could "sense" that the sturdy alloy bulkheads were being torn apart as easily as paper.

One can "feel" that instantaneous, bone-chilling absolute vacuum, and the eternal stillness that follows.

"Enemy fighter group detected changing course and redeploying," TJ-912 reported emotionlessly.

Until this moment, the Republic's massive fighter fleet remained hidden in a relatively safe position behind the main battle line of the Alliance fleet.

Despite the devastating surprise attack, these fighter squadrons, piloted by clones, still demonstrated remarkable discipline and organization, changing course in a relatively orderly manner in an attempt to intercept or evade.

However, it may be too late to take action now.

This amount of power is like a mantis trying to stop a chariot when facing such a massive swarm of machine insects.

With the entire Republic Column scrambling to deal with the endless hordes of robotic fighters in the air, they had almost no resources left to stop the "Thor" fleet from launching a new attack.

The enemy is no longer just a blurry dot on a sensor screen 20 million kilometers away.

However, at this moment, the Republic's fleet was powerless to retaliate!

They were now pressed against the Alliance fleet, driven into a corner. The hull of the "Weeping Sun" beneath Vinok's feet trembled violently, accompanied by the low hum of the turbine laser cannon array charging and the deafening roar of its firing!

Like a cosmic behemoth that has been thoroughly enraged, it unleashed a barrage of deadly turbo-laser beams and proton torpedoes at an almost insane rate of fire at the Republic fleet that was already within reach!

……

Looking at the scene before him, the sheer scale of its destruction and sheer terror was beyond words.

A death torrent of vulture robot fighters, with sheer numbers and reckless charge, crushed any defenses that tried to stop them.

These cold killing machines, carrying only one set of instructions, were tearing at the battle lines of the Republic's fleet with madness.

They are not afraid of destruction; hundreds of them are reduced to cosmic dust every second in the intense barrage of fire, but this is part of the cold logic of swarm tactics.

Achieving a breakthrough through sheer numbers.

Witnessing all this, a chill ran through Renn.

This is an extremely horrific way to die.

He only hoped that the Republic's warships that were hit would disintegrate instantly, so that the people inside would suffer less.

Otherwise... he dared not think any further about the horrific scene of slow suffocation or being burned alive.

More than 200,000 Republic fighter jets were urgently deployed to the rear of the fleet in an attempt to intercept this storm of metal.

This instantly turned into the largest and most brutal air battle between fighter jets since the outbreak of the war!

However, just as the battle situation map was overwhelmed by chaotic dots of light, another cluster of signals representing new fighter jets suddenly appeared.

The total number instantly exceeded 500,000.

The Republic's aircraft carrier has launched another wave of attack aircraft from deep space!

Ryan forcibly suppressed the shock in his heart.

How did they manage to cram so many fighter jets into an aircraft carrier?
He couldn't understand.

He stared intently at the screen, assessing the movements of the new fighter jets.

When he confirmed that the fighter jets had turned to the rear of the fleet, Rein's tense nerves relaxed slightly, and a weight was lifted from his heart.

With the direct threat from the bombers temporarily eliminated, the Allied fleet's battle columns were able to unleash all their firepower on the enemy in front of them.

But at this moment, the "Long Spear Fleet" had closed the distance and maneuvered into a column parallel to the Allied fleet.

In the void filled with flashes of explosions and wreckage of warships, approximately six hundred capital warships faced off like two giants, roaring as they unleashed destructive energy and physical warheads.

The Republic's powerful turbo laser beams slammed into the deflector shields of the separatist warships, causing the energy barriers to flicker violently, emit piercing overload shrieks, and be torn open with huge gaps from time to time.

In response, the separatists retaliated with proton torpedoes and concussion missiles, leaving long trails as they roared back.

The intense artillery fire created a deadly barrage between the two battle lines.

The shield quickly collapsed under the continuous attack, and the hard Durasteel hull twisted, cracked, and melted through under the scorching of the energy beams and the impact of the explosions.

In this ferocious clash of steel behemoths, smaller warships were like small boats navigating through raging waves.

The "Generosity-class light destroyer" and the Republic's "Arquitens-class light cruiser" engaged in fierce combat at extremely close range.

Some extremely brave, or perhaps reckless, crew members of the Lupus-class missile frigates, navigating their vulnerable warships, disregarded the dense point defense fire and desperately broke through the blockade, launching wave after wave of missile salvos at the flanks of the Republic column.

Their fate was almost certainly destruction, but if they could perish together with even one "Victory-class Star Destroyer"... in their eyes, it was a price worth paying.

The dense dots of light, representing enemy artillery fire, drew deadly trajectories in the void like a moving horizon, rapidly approaching the Allied fleet.

The HMS Beauty was struck hard in the middle of its hull by a thick turbine laser beam!

The violent explosion tore a shocking, huge gash in the ship's hull, instantly destroying at least twenty-one torpedo launchers, which, along with their internal ammunition, triggered a chain reaction of explosions.

Even though Rein was on the "Repel," the bridge's sound system clearly simulated the sickening metallic twisting and cracking sounds of a friendly ship in the distance, its structure heavily damaged, like the dying howl of a giant beast.

Rein immediately ordered the "Beautiful Queen" to stagger out of the battle line and join the growing number of damaged warships.

A "Disobedient-class frigate" quickly moved forward to fill the gap.

The cold lines and data on the tactical display screen clearly depict the harsh reality.

The situation is deteriorating rapidly.

Even though the "Thor" fleet's surprise attack severely damaged the Republic's rearguard, the enemy still held an overwhelming advantage in shield strength, turbo laser cannon power, and sheer numbers.

A single "Divine Will-class Command Ship" might be able to barely contend with a single "Victory-class" ship, but what if you were facing two at the same time?

The answer... may be studied and debated by military academies centuries from now.

But for Ryan at this moment, there is only one conclusion.

They are being completely crushed!
A decision must be made immediately, or the starry sky of Centares will become their collective graveyard.

(End of this chapter)