I Am The Swarm

The propulsion system of the Swarm, as it stood now, seemed somewhat outdated.

Although it surpassed the escape velocity of the neighboring star system, it only reached 50 km/s.

In reality, however, this speed was more than sufficient for close-range space combat. Let’s not forget, the space octopuses could accelerate to this speed in a short amount of time.

The Riken fleet, while capable of flying at approximately one-fifth the speed of light, needed an extended acceleration period to reach that velocity, and that required the activation of specialized engines.

Even though this acceleration period was far shorter than when using solar sails, in a space engagement, there wouldn’t be time for such prolonged acceleration.

Moreover, within a solar system, achieving such high speeds was impossible due to the complexity of the environment. Obstacles abounded, and traveling too fast would lead to collisions and destruction.

As such, in terms of short-range agility, the Riken warships might not even be as nimble as the space octopuses.

That said, a distance of 600 million kilometers was still a challenging one to traverse quickly. At such distances, it was difficult to effectively threaten the enemy with any form of attack.

Both sides needed to close the gap to a certain proximity before combat could erupt.

At this juncture, if one side could deceive the other’s detection systems and set up an ambush ahead of time, they would gain a significant advantage.

However, the opponent had abandoned this advantage and exposed their position. Even if they wanted to launch a surprise attack, they would need to undertake a journey of several hundred days. During this time, the defenders could calmly arrange their defenses and prepare for battle.

If the attackers didn’t possess overwhelming numbers, such an operation would be tantamount to suicide.

This was precisely what puzzled the Rikens.

Could it be that their opponents were so confident?

Indeed, the Swarm was extraordinarily confident. The Riken’s deployments were being continuously transmitted back to the Swarm through Lieutenant Colonel Cross. Never before had the Swarm possessed such perfect knowledge of their enemy.

The Swarm, of course, wouldn’t rely solely on their 50 km/s speed for an attack. Their gigantic electromagnetic launchers could accelerate Primordial Space Octopuses to 5,000 km/s, reducing the theoretical travel time from Great Ursa Planet to the Riken fleet to just over one day.

And that calculation even accounted for the necessary deceleration. Without the need to slow down, the journey could be even faster.

In practice, it took nearly three days for the Swarm’s forces to reach the Riken fleet, as they began sustained deceleration after traversing half the distance.

Even so, this was far beyond what the Rikens had imagined.

“Captain, T855 has detected a dense energy burst of exceptionally high intensity!” The observer reported in a panicked voice. The previously calm instruments were now blaring alarms like mad, with the display screen covered in a chaotic array of red dots, large and small.

“What’s going on?” General Masai demanded, immediately ordering the AI to summon all ship captains to the conference room for a meeting.

“They’re attacking us! Based on earlier deductions, it’s their electromagnetic railguns. The T855 and its satellites are saturated with their railgun strikes!” the observer stammered, his voice trembling.

“Damn it! What was the reconnaissance team doing earlier? Why wasn’t anything detected? Where’s Malachi? Get him to provide a report immediately. Otherwise, we won’t need to wait for the war to start—I’ll execute him myself!” General Masai roared.

Malachi, the officer in charge of reconnaissance, held the rank of lieutenant colonel. His position placed him on equal footing with many of the ship captains, granting him significant authority. Yet this blunder left no room for explanation. Even if General Masai didn’t execute him on the spot, Malachi wouldn’t escape a court-martial after the war.

The Rikens’ efficiency was commendable. As they had already heightened their alert status, it took only two minutes after General Masai’s tirade for all participants to join the online meeting room.

“What’s the situation now, General? I heard the enemy is approaching. Didn’t earlier reports suggest we had at least a hundred days to prepare?” a captain questioned the moment General Masai logged into the meeting. This individual was a prominent leader, holding a status equivalent to Major General Porter’s. While they usually maintained cordial relations, the war’s onset stripped away formalities.

Not to mention, Malachi was known to be General Masai’s subordinate—and rumored to be a relative. With such a gross intelligence failure, everyone present could face significant losses, and it was no surprise that the captain’s tone was sharp.

General Masai, knowing he was at fault, ignored the captain’s criticism and addressed the group instead: “The overall situation has already been sent to you. Somehow, the enemy has managed to deceive our reconnaissance. But this is not the time to assign blame. The enemy’s attack is imminent. If anyone has any suggestions, speak freely.”

“General, we currently know nothing. Earlier intelligence is likely unreliable. We need new, accurate information before we can analyze the situation,” one of the captains responded.

Pretending not to hear the implied rebuke, General Masai was about to say something when his adjutant approached and whispered in his ear.

After hearing the message, he nodded and said to the screen, “Let’s have Lieutenant Colonel Malachi join us. As the officer in charge of reconnaissance, I believe he’ll have some firsthand information to share.”

A new video window appeared on the screen, revealing a middle-aged male Riken with a sharp gaze. He looked visibly displeased, as if caught in a storm not of his making.

After straightening his uniform, he began: “Ladies and gentlemen, I admit there were lapses in the intelligence department this time, but the blame doesn’t entirely lie with us.”

From the outset, Lieutenant Colonel Malachi admitted the mistake but quickly hinted that there was more to the story.

“Then please explain it to us,” said the captain who had earlier questioned General Masai. Though his words were polite, his tone was laced with sarcasm, implying he doubted Malachi’s ability to clarify the issue.

Malachi nodded. He caught the insinuation but had no retort, his eyes growing colder. “Everyone, please look at these two images.”

Two comparative images appeared on the screen, showing what appeared to be a distant star system.

The left image seemed ordinary, but the right one depicted the same system with extensive purple-gray patches over the planets and moons. Two of the smaller moons were entirely engulfed in this purple-gray color.

Although the assembled commanders were high-ranking and prestigious, they were well-prepared. If shown only the right image, they might hesitate, but the left image made it clear. It was the T855 planet and its satellites.

Their expressions turned grave.

“What happened?” a captain asked.

“The left image was taken ten hours ago. The right image shows their current state,” Malachi explained.

“Is this real? Why have they changed so drastically? Are there any close-up images?”

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