The MSS Aegis was the heart of Mars' defense fleet, its bridge alive with movement as officers worked tirelessly at their stations. Tactical readouts scrolled across glowing displays, tracking the ongoing battle above the planet's atmosphere. The enemy forces had been relentless for months, but today was no different. Mars held strong.
Outside, the battlefield was chaos—a carefully orchestrated war between Mars' elite fleet and Lionel's relentless forces. Colossal warships exchanged volleys of heavy cannon fire, each explosion a bright flare against the darkness of space. Fighter squadrons weaved between the carnage, engaging in high-speed dogfights, their engines burning trails through the void. Defensive platforms stationed along Mars' orbital ring fired controlled bursts of energy, creating a near-impenetrable shield around the planet.
But despite the intensity, the Martian Fleet was winning.
Admiral Tobias Renholm watched the battlefield unfold, the smirk on his lips unwavering. His fleet was disciplined, trained for this very moment. Lionel's forces were faltering, unable to break their defensive line.
"Lionel stands no chance against our defense force," he muttered, confidence dripping from his tone.
The officers around him shared his certainty.
"They've been hammering us for months, and we're still here," one of the tactical officers said, shaking his head. "At this rate, they'll run out of ships before we do."
The enemy was retreating. Lionel's once-formidable fleet was breaking formation, their engines flaring as they pulled back from the battle. Reports flooded in from across the comms—Mars had repelled yet another attack.
A younger officer pumped his fist in triumph. "We did it! Another successful defense!"
The tension that had held the bridge so tight for hours finally loosened. Cheers echoed, officers exchanging relieved glances.
Renholm exhaled, letting the moment settle. "What's the plan once we hold him back?" one officer asked.
"Nothing for now," Renholm admitted, his fingers tapping against the console. "We don't have enough ships to take back Earth." He gritted his teeth. "And Jupiter's Sovereign refuses to send aid. That bastard…"
A grizzled lieutenant scoffed. "What do you expect from the richest planet? They sit up there in their floating cities, pretending this war has nothing to do with them."
Another officer chuckled bitterly. "Too busy counting their profits. All those politicians…"
The conversation quieted, frustration settling into the room like a heavy fog.
Then—
"Sir." The calm voice of the sensor technician cut through the noise. "Enemy fleet has fully withdrawn."
Renholm exhaled, forcing himself to relax. "Good. Maintain formations until they're completely out of range."
"Aye, sir."
For a moment, it felt like they could breathe.
But then—
"New contact!" The technician's voice spiked in alarm. "Unidentified vessel entering the battlefield!"
Renholm's head snapped toward the main screen.
A dark shape loomed at the edge of their scanners. Unlike the retreating fleet, this ship moved deliberately—silent, predatory.
"What is that?" Another officer leaned over the console.
"No identification… No recorded design matches…" The technician hesitated. "It's— it's not like anything we've seen before."
Renholm frowned, stepping forward. "Bring it up."
The screen flickered, enhancing the distant image.
A massive warship emerged from the void. It dwarfed every other vessel on the field, its dark hull pulsating with eerie, glowing veins of energy. The surface twisted unnaturally, as if it were alive.
A cold dread seeped into the room.
"This… isn't normal," one officer whispered.
"Sir!" Another voice cut in. "We're picking up—" The officer paled. "A massive magic energy surge! It's coming from that ship!"
Renholm's breath caught. "What? That has to be an error."
"It's not!" The technician frantically adjusted controls. "It's unlike anything we've ever recorded—levels are off the charts!"
Then the screen distorted—static rippling through every display. The lights dimmed, flickering erratically.
Something was coming.
Something they weren't ready for.
The enemy warship opened fire.
A massive energy barrage tore through the void, slamming into Mars' defensive fleet with devastating force. Shields flickered, warships rocked under the impact, and alarms blared across the MSS Aegis's bridge.
"This one's strong!" an officer shouted, gripping the console for balance. "It's going to be hard defending against this—"
Then the sensors flared again.
"Sir!" The technician's voice was laced with panic. "Four more ships just appeared!"
Renholm's stomach dropped.
The viewscreen updated, revealing the newcomers—massive, ominous vessels unlike anything they had encountered before. Their dark hulls pulsed with unnatural energy, twisting and shifting as if alive. The eerie glow lining their forms sent a chill through the bridge.
"What are these ships…?" Another officer whispered, his face pale. "They look nothing like the previous ones!"
Renholm didn't answer. His eyes remained locked on the unfolding disaster.
Then—
"They're concentrating fire on our center!!"
A barrage of magical energy erupted from the ships, streaking toward the heart of Mars' defenses. The shields of the front-line warships flared desperately against the onslaught. For a brief moment, they held.
Then—
They shattered.
Explosions ripped through the fleet. The defense line—the one that had withstood months of attacks—was breaking.
A deafening explosion erupted across the battlefield.
The MSS Aegis shook violently as the ship next to them—one of Mars' strongest warships—was obliterated in a blinding burst of energy. The blastwave tore through the fleet, debris scattering through the void like shrapnel.
A stunned silence gripped the bridge.
Then—
"REPORT THIS! NOW! NOW!" Renholm bellowed, gripping the railing as alarms screeched through the command center.
"We're breached—!"
BOOM.
Another impact slammed into them. Sparks rained from overhead panels, the floor trembling beneath their feet. The Aegis's shields flickered erratically, struggling against the relentless assault.
"Sir!" a frantic voice called out. "They have an opening in our center! If we don't—"
Renholm's jaw clenched. "We have to close it!"
The crew scrambled, desperate to reposition the fleet, but deep down, Renholm already knew.
They weren't going to make it.
The opening was there. And Lionel's forces were already surging through it.
Mars' defenses were falling.