The alarms echoed like war drums through Havenreach. Every corridor filled with flashing crimson lights, every voice elevated with the same mix of fear and determination.
Kael raced through the command deck doors, Lyra close at his side. The Ark's star map hovered above the room, a glowing sphere of the system with thirty hostile signals burning red against the void. They were closing in fast.
"Status," Kael demanded.
A harried officer, barely out of academy age, saluted. "Thirty ships, sir. Fifteen frigates, ten cruisers, three carriers, two dreadnought-class signatures. Estimated arrival: twenty minutes."
Kael's stomach clenched. Two dreadnoughts. After what it had taken to destroy one, Havenreach couldn't withstand two.
Lyra's voice cut sharp through the silence. "Do we have any confirmation who commands them?"
The officer shook his head. "No direct communication. But the codes match Ghost Admiral protocols. Sir—if this is another fragment of his fleet—"
Kael finished for him, grim. "Then we fight them before they get too close."
He summoned his senior crew—engineers, tacticians, even militia leaders who only weeks ago had been miners and merchants. They gathered in the Ark's war room, every face pale but resolute.
"The enemy is larger, stronger, and better armed," Kael began without preamble. "We cannot meet them head-on. Havenreach won't survive. We must fight smarter."
An older engineer leaned forward, hands shaking as he adjusted his spectacles. "We've got the asteroid belt. If we rig charges and draw them inside, we could collapse sections of rock. Force them to scatter."
A militia captain shook his head. "Scatter thirty ships? Impossible. They'll punch through and crush us while we're still trying to bury them."
Lyra studied the map, eyes narrowed. "Not if we use the Ark. Its drives can destabilize the asteroid field itself. If we channel its energy through the rocks, we can create a storm of debris no fleet could navigate."
Kael frowned. "That's never been tested."
Her voice softened, but there was steel in it. "Neither was we surviving the first battle. But here we are."
Kael weighed it, then nodded. "Prepare the Ark. We draw them in, break the field around them, and hit them when they're scattered. Havenreach will cover us with its defense batteries."
The militia captain saluted. "Then may the void watch over us."
As preparations began, Kael slipped into the medbay. He found Taren sitting upright, a datapad in his lap. His brother looked stronger now, but shadows lingered in his eyes.
"You've heard," Kael said.
Taren nodded slowly. "They're mine. Or what was mine. Fragments of my fleet, loyal to the mask, not the man. They'll want revenge. Or to reclaim me."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then we show them the Ghost Admiral is finished."
Taren's lips curved into a humorless smile. "You're going to try your clever tricks, collapse rocks on them, scatter them. It won't matter. They're too strong."
"Maybe," Kael admitted. "But we're not alone anymore."
Taren studied him, something unreadable in his gaze. "Do you even know what happens if you lose?"
Kael met his eyes without flinching. "Then Havenreach burns. And I burn with it. But not before giving them hell."
For a long moment, silence hung heavy. Then Taren set the datapad aside and rose slowly, wincing. "Then you'll need me."
Kael blinked. "You can barely walk."
"But I can still command," Taren said. "These ships were mine. I know their captains, their flaws, their pride. If you want a chance, you'll need that knowledge."
Kael hesitated. Taren's help could turn the tide—or doom them. But as the klaxons blared again, there was no time for doubt.
"Fine," Kael said. "But you'll do it under my command."
For the first time, Taren gave a genuine smile, faint and weary. "Then let's see if the Ardyn brothers can save a world instead of burning one."
Minutes later, the Ark soared from Havenreach, its wings glowing with contained fury. Escort ships flanked it—frigates patched from scrap, cruisers still bearing scars of the last battle. Against the oncoming fleet, they looked like scavengers before wolves.
Kael stood at the Ark's command dais, Lyra at his side, Taren seated near the comms, his presence like a storm caged in flesh.
"Enemy fleet entering the outer belt," a navigator reported.
Kael nodded. "Hold position. Make them chase us."
The Ark drifted into the asteroid field, its engines flaring in bursts to appear hesitant, vulnerable. The enemy took the bait, advancing with aggressive formation.
"They're spreading too evenly," Taren murmured, eyes sharp. "Their commander doesn't trust us. He's expecting an ambush."
"Then we give him one he can't predict," Kael replied. "Lyra—begin destabilization sequence."
The Ark's wings flared, energy coursing into the surrounding asteroids. At first, nothing happened. Then the rocks trembled, shifted, and suddenly dozens of them shattered, fragments spraying like shrapnel across the void.
The enemy fleet faltered. Frigates swerved, cruisers collided, one carrier took a direct hit and spun into chaos.
Kael seized the moment. "All ships—attack!"
Havenreach's defense batteries lit the dark with thunder, beams of energy lancing through the scattered fleet. The Ark surged forward, firing concentrated bursts that ripped through a cruiser's shields and tore it apart.
But the enemy recovered quickly. The two dreadnoughts advanced, their cannons blazing, cutting through Kael's escorts like paper.
"Shields collapsing!" a voice cried over comms. "We can't take this!"
Kael's fists clenched. "Focus fire on their support! We bring down the wolves before we face the lions."
The Ark twisted through the storm, its alien hull shrugging off glancing blows. Lyra guided its movements like an extension of herself, weaving between asteroids, firing in deadly bursts.
Yet the dreadnoughts kept coming.
Taren leaned forward, eyes fixed. "The one on the left—its captain is Drevik. He'll press too hard, try to prove himself. Lure him into the belt's dense cluster. He won't back off."
Kael nodded sharply. "Lyra, you heard him."
The Ark darted into the cluster, weaving between massive asteroids. The dreadnought pursued, its cannons blazing, rocks exploding around it. But it pressed too deep, too far.
"Now!" Taren barked.
The Ark unleashed a surge, shattering the largest asteroid in its path. The fragments cascaded down like an avalanche, slamming into the dreadnought's hull. Shields collapsed, metal tore, and in moments the massive ship was reduced to a burning carcass.
Cheers erupted across the comms.
But the second dreadnought advanced, undeterred, its cannons cutting down three escorts in a single volley.
Kael gritted his teeth. "All ships, fall back to Havenreach. Draw it into range of the station's guns."
The Ark turned, weaving desperately as the dreadnought gave chase. Havenreach loomed ahead, its defense batteries primed, its people watching from the windows.
"Fire!" Kael roared.
The station unleashed its fury. Dozens of beams converged, striking the dreadnought's shields in a blinding cascade. The Ark added its own fire, tearing through the weakened armor.
For a moment, the dreadnought held. Then it exploded, light flooding the void.
Silence fell across the comms. Then, one by one, voices rose in disbelief, in joy. The fleet was broken.
Hours later, Havenreach celebrated. Fires burned in memorial, songs rose in defiance, and the survivors clung to each other as if afraid they might vanish.
Kael stood apart, watching the stars. Lyra joined him, her hand slipping into his.
"You did it," she whispered.
"We did it," he corrected softly.
Behind them, Taren lingered in the shadows, his gaze unreadable. He had saved them—but he had also reminded everyone of who he had once been.
As Kael looked at his brother, he knew the war was far from over. The fleet was broken, but the shadows that birthed it still lingered in the dark.
And one day, they would rise again.