Chapter 330: Chapter 330 – Precision Strike! The Life-Erasing “Little Doctor”!
Chapter 330 – Precision Strike! The Life-Erasing "Little Doctor"!
Following Lockdown's hardcore enforcement of discipline, the internal comms among the Bounty Hunter Fleet quieted down considerably.
In the world of interstellar pirates, most Transformers knew of Lockdown's ruthless reputation.
Of course, that didn't stop a few brainless idiots from swaggering up to the flagship HQ and challenging his authority.
Naturally, their reward was a savage beatdown followed by decapitation—their severed heads strung up outside the flagship as a warning to the rest of the fleet.
At that moment, having just casually executed a few would-be challengers, Lockdown lifted his gaze toward the faint dots of light in the distance—sunlight from the Sol system's star.
That meant they were getting close. But instead of excitement, Lockdown felt an unshakable irritation. "Can't get anything done working with these useless scrapheaps."
"If this gig falls through, I need to get the hell out before I go down with them."
Lockdown had a bad feeling he couldn't quite explain. Mulling it over, he returned to the captain's chair and brought up the fleet's scanner systems.
They were sailing through deep space—out in the desolate outer edges of the solar system. With no nearby stars to provide illumination, the view was pitch black.
Across the full holographic screen, only the glow of the other ships' engines was visible.
"We're still a good distance from the solar system. They probably haven't spotted us yet."
Lockdown began strategizing for the next phase. "Slip into the solar system. Approach Earth. Launch a ground assault and recover Quintessa's staff."
That was the mission Quintessa had given him long ago, but executing it wasn't so simple—he had no idea what the current level of human technology looked like.
"Once we're in, I'll send those scrapheaps down to draw fire. I'll act alone and retrieve the staff. As soon as I've got it, I'm out."
Having finalized the plan, Lockdown let out a low, sinister chuckle.
He had no loyalty to the other bounty hunters. Despite being their so-called commander, he didn't give a damn about any of their lives.
They were cannon fodder, nothing more—meant to distract human forces while he snuck in and claimed the prize.
Whatever happened to the Bounty Hunter Fleet after that—or what Quintessa was really after—was none of his concern. As long as he got paid, that was all that mattered.
But what Lockdown didn't know was that the fleet's position had already been picked up by an AI reconnaissance device deployed by the Megacorp at the outer edge of the solar system.
[Alert: We've found them. AI recon reports visual on enemy fleet!]
The moment Megacorp's Intelligence Division confirmed the sighting of the bounty hunters, the main HQ launched into full mobilization.
Onboard the Legacy, the command flagship, David was leading a high-level strategy meeting, the atmosphere thick with urgency.
"Everyone,"
Standing tall before a large holographic screen, hands clasped behind his back, David spoke solemnly. The screen displayed fleet commanders and senior officers from across the divisions, all strategizing their offensive against the incoming pirate fleet.
"The boss has greenlit deployment of the untested FTL Inhibitor—he's entrusting it to us. But if we're going to use it, this strike must produce results. We need to force Quintessa out into the open!"
The fact that Li Ang was willing to hand over the unproven FTL Inhibitor showed just how committed he was to victory.
David had no intention of letting him down. He'd assembled the finest warriors and equipment for this preemptive assault.
This battle had to be won—and won cleanly. Ideally, it would be a decisive strike that ended everything in one blow.
"In addition, this is our first chance to field-test the FTL Inhibitor. The Science Division expects a full post-battle usage report."
Since the version 1.0 FTL Inhibitor hadn't gone through final testing, no one was quite sure how effective it would be. Only actual combat could provide the data they needed.
This was also a rare chance for Megacorp's elite forces to coordinate in a real-world scenario.
Participating units included:
Sangheili elites from the Halo universe's Covenant,
The Promethean Warhost of Preacher,
And the Navigators from the Dune universe.
The Sangheili were similar in height to Megacorp's Astartes warriors, and when outfitted with powered armor, they were nearly on par—at least the mid-tier ones who had undergone 7–8 surgical enhancements.
The fully enhanced, Primaris-tier Astartes—those who'd completed all augmentations—were in a league of their own.
With every universe Megacorp conquered, they adapted their tactical doctrines—integrating strengths from each military culture to refine their own.
This joint operation would serve as an excellent proving ground for those refinements.
"According to Intel Division, these pirates specialize in hit-and-run boarding tactics. So leverage our long-range weapons. Wear them down first."
"Once the enemy fleet is crippled by energy lance barrages, we move in to mop up. But adapt your approach to the battlefield as needed."
"Now—good luck out there. Bring me victory!"
David kept the speech short. The upper brass had already gone over the campaign countless times in closed meetings.
"Prepare for warp! Initiate jump!"
At David Martinez's command, the warp orders were relayed through AI systems to all vessels in the fleet.
Thousands of ships fired off pulses of brilliant blue energy, twisting the very fabric of spacetime into a massive vortex crackling with arcing energy.
Whoosh—!
With ghostly afterimages trailing behind, the elite forward fleet of Megacorp simultaneously jumped, crossing several light-years in an instant to arrive at the designated engagement zone.
But the intense light burst from the warp exit didn't go unnoticed.
[Enemy sighted!]
[All units, activate shipboard weapons. Aim forward—don't drag your feet or you'll eat a shell to the face!]
[Sync intel with flagship HQ immediately.]
The pirate fleet's various divisions differed wildly in combat discipline. The frontline scout ships alone couldn't gather enough intel fast enough.
And since the fleet had been moving at full speed with no advance recon, they were caught completely off-guard by humanity's sudden offensive.
Now, they were scrambling—each ship trying to activate its scanners and feed the data back to HQ.
But this response cycle was slow. Far too slow.
If this had been a Megacorp fleet, they would've executed a classic mid-transit ambush without hesitation.
Instead, the pirates wasted precious seconds fumbling for information.
Meanwhile, David's elite strike fleet had already emerged from warp and fully deployed.
They were now visible to the pirates—but HQ still hadn't finished processing the intel.
[Screw the data! I can see the damn fleet with my own optics! Get us in there—full burn!]
A foul-mouthed pirate captain roared over the comms.
The pirate armada numbered over ten thousand vessels—vastly outnumbering the Megacorp strike force.
Lockdown narrowed his optics, zooming in until he could clearly see the markings on the incoming ships.
When he spotted the human script on the hulls, he immediately opened the fleet-wide broadcast.
"That's a human fleet! All bounty hunters, battle stations! Close in on them and take those fat sheep down!"
Lockdown was overjoyed. This was exactly what he wanted—human forces taking the initiative and delivering themselves right to his doorstep.
He'd been worried he'd have to press deep into enemy space only to face a dug-in defense. Now, they were practically offering themselves up.
But not everyone shared his enthusiasm.
Some bounty hunters were visibly hesitant—dragging their heels instead of powering up their engines.
They could clearly see that the Megacorp ships were no ordinary rabble—this was a well-drilled, elite force.
To them, it was like a gang of roadside bandits suddenly staring down the imperial army.
Of course they were nervous.
The Megacorp fleet formations were precise and disciplined. And until their capabilities were fully assessed, no sane pirate wanted to be the first to charge in and get vaporized.
As a result, the moment Lockdown issued the assault order, the entire fleet's formation fell apart—utter chaos.
Some surged ahead with reckless abandon. Others pretended not to hear the order and kept cruising at the original pace.
A third group outright stopped in place, deciding to "observe" instead.
Watching this disorganized mess unfold, Lockdown erupted into a string of furious curses.
How the hell were they supposed to fight a war like this?!
For a brief moment, Lockdown seriously considered ditching the whole lot of these scrapheads and making a run for it.
But after thinking it over, he realized he couldn't just bail before the fight had even started—not without securing some valuable intel first. Fleeing now would make him look like a coward, and that would destroy any leverage he had left.
Besides, over five to six thousand ships from his side had already responded to the call and were charging ahead. The humans only had about a thousand vessels in total.
On paper, the Bounty Hunter Fleet held a significant numerical advantage.
"Whichever ship I see lagging in the rear, I'll report it to Quintessa for insubordination. And don't even dream of rewards—prepare to be torn apart, atom by atom!"
He issued the warning over the fleet-wide broadcast, then slammed the comms device back into its cradle and refocused on the Megacorp fleet ahead.
The human ships were advancing at a steady pace, formation tight like an iron wall. Lockdown suddenly felt uneasy.
"Wait... what the hell is that?"
He squinted. A faint speck of light had appeared—barely noticeable, darting toward his position at blinding speed.
Thanks to his top-of-the-line sensor suite—courtesy of some very expensive upgrades—Lockdown could zoom in with precision most Transformers couldn't even dream of.
In this pitch-black void, the only visible illumination came from the engine flares of both fleets.
Yet within the Megacorp formation, he spotted it—a single light speck.
"That tiny speck… looks no bigger than a regular projectile. But it's moving fast. Really fast. That's a human weapon?!"
At first, Lockdown almost laughed.
After exiting warp, the Megacorp fleet had done nothing but slightly adjust their position—and then they launched what appeared to be a few dim specks of light.
Each one less than half a meter long.
Sure, they moved fast. But even in the blackness of space, they were so faint they were practically invisible.
As the specks drew closer, Lockdown's unease deepened. Their velocity was absurd—likely approaching light-speed.
"You see those dots? They could be missiles. Or probes. Whatever they are—take no chances. Shoot them down!"
He immediately broadcast new orders to the forward-line troops. He had no idea what those "dots" really were, but he wasn't willing to bet the fleet's survival on a hunch.
The war had only just begun. According to standard Bounty Hunter tactics, the first step was always a blitz—close the gap and board the enemy vessels.
Despite being pirates, their gear was anything but second-rate. They had planet-cracking main guns, high-end energy shields—all scavenged or traded from the Creator Civilization and refined through countless raids and deals with Quintessa.
Facing off against human warships, many of the bounty hunters expected another routine slaughter.
[Roger that! Light 'em up, boys—FIRE!!]
[All batteries, open fire—NOW!]
The comms channel became a chaotic mess of overlapping languages—autotranslated into a raucous but coordinated barrage. Thankfully, Transformer minds processed information at lightning speed and filtered it all instantly.
BOOM—!!
The silent vacuum of space lit up with thunderous energy.
At Lockdown's command, thousands of Bounty Hunter ships opened fire in unison. The first wave included particle beams, nukes, railguns, and laser cannons.
Yet almost all of it missed.
The targets—those tiny, lightning-fast light specks—were too small, too fast. Hitting one was like trying to snipe a grain of rice from ten kilometers away.
It came down to luck.
But for once, the bounty hunters had some.
One of the beams did hit a speck.
A brilliant explosion followed, flooding the void with electromagnetic interference and blinding light. For a few seconds, sensor readings were useless.
Everyone assumed they'd destroyed most of the incoming projectiles.
After all, that kind of firepower could carve out a zone of complete annihilation—a life vacuum stretching millions of kilometers across. Nothing could survive inside it.
[Target the enemy fleet! Move in! Prepare to board!]
With weapons in cooldown and recharging, Lockdown ordered the fleet forward. Boarding operations had to happen quickly—before the humans could counter.
But then, to his horror, the "light specks" hadn't disappeared.
They were still coming.
The blinding explosion wasn't from destruction—it was the aftermath of one of them detonating upon impact.
"What the hell… are those things?!"
Lockdown's sensors narrowed and sharpened again. As the surviving specks streaked closer, he finally felt it—not just unease, but terror.
Those "specks" were actually MD-500 units, nicknamed "Little Doctor", from Ender's Game.
These weren't conventional weapons—they used accelerated particle flows to unravel matter at the molecular level, triggering a cascade of annihilation.
Upgraded through the Einstein Ring particle conduit, the MD-500's speed and destructive power had doubled.
They were like the "Photon Blades" from The Three-Body Problem's Singer Civilization—compact, unassuming, and absolutely catastrophic.
This was the first time Megacorp had deployed MD-500s en masse as standard shipborne weapons.
But their destructive potential was so enormous, they'd only dared launch ten units.
Technically, the MD-500 was a law-grade weapon—similar to the Einstein Ring in that it disrupted matter on a subatomic level.
When unleashed in battle, it was like planting a Doom-shroom from Plants vs. Zombies—the explosion left behind a void, a space crater where nothing could survive.
The aftermath?
A swirling, twisted "null zone" where conventional travel was impossible. Any ship entering risked being shredded by residual molecular disintegration.
Eventually, space would self-heal—but not before tearing apart everything inside.
In the initial salvo, the pirates were lucky—they managed to destroy one MD-500.
But the remaining nine? Not a chance. They weren't going to get that lucky twice.
[20 billion meters per second?! That's nearly light speed! What kind of cursed weapon is this?!]
The observers in the fleet stared at the incoming lights like they were watching a nightmare manifest.
Whatever it was—anything moving that fast, with mass behind it—would annihilate anything it touched.
Bridge crews scrambled to redirect their ships—dodging, twisting, trying to evade the incoming MDs.
From earlier observations, they knew the projectiles didn't steer—they flew straight.
If they moved out of the way, maybe they could survive.
Others brought up close-in defense turrets to try and shoot them down.
But it was too late.
The first surviving MD-500 slammed into the forward line.
The unfortunate ship struck by the projectile exploded—not in fire and flames, but in compression.
The MD didn't just pierce the hull—it unraveled the ship from the inside out.
For a split second, the rest of the fleet chuckled—mocking the bad luck of that vessel.
Then they saw what happened next.
The ship began collapsing in on itself, twisted into grotesque folds as though space itself were folding it like laundry—then cramming it into a pinhole.
In mere seconds, a massive warship was just gone.
It didn't explode.
It folded, compressed, and vanished—sucked into a warped knot of space like a black hole chewing its prey.
But it didn't stop there.
The hit had triggered a chain reaction. The null-space collapse zone began to spread outward.
Nearby ships were pulled into the gravitational collapse, breaking apart, spiraling into the dead zone.
The effect rippled across the formation—ships dissolving, twisting, spiraling into nothing.
Each MD-500 generated an expanding field of annihilation—a "death tide" that sucked everything nearby into its erasing core.
To the pirates, it was like their fleet was being flushed into some cosmic toilet, with the MD-500 acting as the universe's most terrifying plunger.
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