Chapter 16: Ambush at Pluto: The Federation’s Gambit

Time marched steadily on.

In the darkness, countless ‘fishing nets’ woven from railgun projectiles kept closing in on the Klein fleet.

Mixed among these nets were other, more mysterious things.

They crept in silently like assassins stalking through the night, drawing ever nearer to their targets.

At last, after just over twenty minutes…

In the previous volley, only one out of more than ten thousand rounds had struck home, barely grazing a battleship. In the next wave…

Nearly every ship in the fleet took multiple, sometimes a dozen or more, direct hits from pinpoint railgun fire.

Eight smaller ships, struck hardest and with the densest impacts, were blown apart on the spot.

Hidden in the darkness, at this moment…

The assassin revealed its blade.

The surviving ships managed to hold together, but their hulls took significant damage.

The overall hit rate exceeded even the Federation’s own estimates, hitting 17.4%.

Then, just six seconds later, the assassins in the dark struck again.

No flashes, no boom.

Just the cold, unblinking view from the monitors.

Small projectiles, moving at thousands of kilometers per second, crashed hard into the fleet.

Chunks blasted off, debris scattering far and wide.

That was the scene unfolding on the screens.

Of course, under this second onslaught, more ships were destroyed as their armor was thoroughly pierced.

The number lost doubled compared to the first wave.

Wave after wave followed—third, fourth, fifth—each coming in rapid succession.

After barely surviving the fifth barrage, the Klein fleet finally reacted. They slammed on the brakes and forcefully altered their course.

Why did the Federation fleet always slow down before changing course, instead of veering mid-max speed?

Because…

The ships couldn’t take that kind of force!

And neither could their crews!

But this time, the Klein fleet did the unthinkable.

At 198 kilometers per second, they forcefully adjusted their trajectory, carving out a gentle arc in space.

Every ship withstood the maneuver without falling apart!

By the time the ninth precision volley swept in, the hit rate had plummeted to almost zero.

If the enemy could dodge, then pinpoint attacks became almost useless.

Sometimes they’d hit nothing at all.

While the Klein fleet’s evasive tactics were surprising,

It didn’t throw off the Federation’s overall projections much.

Getting in eight or nine precision strikes—Admiral Volkov was already more than satisfied.

Because—

The number of Klein ships had dropped from over three hundred down to just 183.

In other words, in less than a minute,

The Fourth Fleet had destroyed over a hundred enemy ships.

And all they’d used were the railguns…

What was there to complain about?

The Klein fleet still had the edge in numbers, but the Fourth Fleet now fielded more of the large vessels.

The difference in combat strength between the two sides was nearly wiped away.

Volkov’s confidence surged, and the morale of the Fourth Fleet soared with him.

From here on, it was just cleanup.

Volkov would occasionally slip a few more precision barrages into the area bombardments,

But after getting burnt earlier, the Klein fleet was now alert.

They didn’t let Volkov pull the same trick twice.

An hour passed.

At the cost of another twelve ships,

The two fleets had drawn within one hundred thousand kilometers of each other.

Yet Volkov wasn’t troubled in the least.

When the distance dropped to eighty thousand kilometers, that’s when the Federation Fleet could unleash its full firepower.

Meanwhile, in Pluto’s shadow, Volkov had another ace up his sleeve.

Victory was as good as his!

He clenched his fist in triumph—but right then…

“Reporting—massive enemy fleet detected in Pluto orbit, 560,000 kilometers from us. Numbers… over 2,000 ships; speed above 300 kilometers per second.”

The radar officer’s shout split the tension.

The bridge erupted in chaos.

Volkov was stunned.

Pluto orbit?

Right now, the Fourth Fleet was stationed near Pluto’s moon, Nyx,

Which meant they were practically right next to Pluto.

How could an armada—over 2,000 ships—be so close without detection until now?

Had the enemy main fleet hidden on the far side of Pluto all this time?

Did they even use Pluto’s gravity to speed up their approach?

Otherwise, there’s no explaining a speed of over 300 kilometers per second.

“Time to contact?”

“1,866 seconds!”

The radar officer answered.

Volkov frowned, brow furrowed deeply.

Only thirty minutes?

Of course, that was just the time until the fleets passed directly by each other.

But in space warfare, ships almost never collide head-on like that.

In practice, once they entered optimal firing range, it’d be sooner than those thirty minutes.

Volkov racked his brain for a strategy.

But…

The Klein fleet gave him no breathing room.

“Report—enemy ships have opened fire. That… that’s…”

“What is it?”

“Those projectiles are huge!”

Huge?

Volkov didn’t quite process the report.

What do they mean, huge?

He glanced at the tactical display—over two thousand enemy ships in Pluto orbit.

Thousands of red markers surged from the enemy formation, racing straight toward them.

Each one was over ten meters long, all shaped like giant spikes.

You could say they looked like shells…

Given the size and speed, they did look like artillery rounds.

But on the other hand…

Nothing about them was normal.

Just accelerating a shell that size, and at that speed—

The energy required, the kinetic impact…?

It just doesn’t add up!

Who would design a weapon like this?

“Fleet, evasive maneuvers! Use the railguns to intercept!”

They’re so massive, moving in straight lines at steady speeds—

This made them the easiest targets to shoot down.

Besides, they were shells—not as tough as battleships, right?

So intercepting with the railguns made perfect sense.

But minutes later, when the railgun rounds hit…

A few of them really did explode.

But that only happened when several railgun shots struck the same target at once.

If they only took a hit or two, or were struck in different places—it was like being scratched.

They kept rushing at the fleet undeterred.

Even so, it wasn’t a grave threat.

After all, the Fourth Fleet wasn’t flying at maximum speed, so there was no need to decelerate.

Volkov had already ordered the fleet to evade, steering clear of the projectiles’ paths.

In other words, these gigantic shells would simply sweep by the edges of the formation without causing harm.

But was it really going to be that simple?

“Admiral, there’s something wrong with those enemy projectiles!”

“Look at this footage…”

A moment later, video feeds popped up in front of Volkov, projected into the air.

They showed the wreckage of one of the massive Klein munitions destroyed earlier.

The shell was already blown apart,

But from its remains you could see inside…

It looked—hollow?

And floating around the wreckage were dozens of armored figures.

Could it be… these weren’t shells, but—”