A T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruiser · bridge.
"Warning! Warning! Warning! The hull armor in certain districts is undergoing destruction!"
The System's prompt sounded at the captain's ear, and at the same time, upon the interstellar warship's holographic diagram before him, several small red glowing points could be seen upon the hull's outer armor.
These red glowing points were the trouble the System warned of.
They were very small — smaller in compass even than a single direct cannonade of the hull by an enemy ship.
But the hull armor of those cells was being destroyed at an astonishing rate.
And very soon worse news came.
"Warning! Warning! Warning! Compartment 1017, district C3, port wing of the hull, has been entered by an unidentified energy source!"
The demon captain at once called up the monitoring images of that district.
It was a compartment of middling size — for all which it was the size of a football field.
And upon one side of it an opening could be seen; because of the difference of pressure within and without, the compartment was fallen into utter confusion, and certain unsecured fittings had been sucked out.
Nor could a single crew member be seen.
Whether because the compartment held no crew of itself, or because…
At this time a crimson figure came climbing in through the opening and appeared within the compartment.
That was plainly a battle mecha!
The battle mecha held an autocannon, in a posture of war readiness.
Behind it two more like it came pouring in, taking up a fighting formation.
After a moment's pause these three battle mecha locked upon one direction, raised their autocannon outright, and opened fire upon the compartment's bulkhead.
The strength of a compartment bulkhead and the strength of a starship's hull armor are not of one order at all.
An ordinary autocannon might hardly leave a mark upon hull armor, but upon this bulkhead there appeared at once a dense array of bullet holes — and at the same time screams of terror came from the compartment beyond.
The screaming lasted a bare few seconds and was gone.
One of the three crimson battle mecha went forward first, and at the same time started up a one-way star-shield, holding it before itself like a shield.
Having come up to that riddled bulkhead, it simply kicked it.
In an instant the whole bulkhead collapsed like a tower of blocks.
And the compartment beyond stood revealed.
A place of ruins, with blood and gobbets of flesh to be seen everywhere upon the floor.
There was no telling any longer how many demon crew the compartment had held, for beneath the dense fire of the mecha's autocannon fragile bodies had come apart in an instant.
Crunch, crunch.
The heavy tread of the mecha moving.
The three crimson mecha went on forward, treading upon the blood and flesh on the floor.
And enlarging the district, the demon captain found that the region these three crimson mecha were about to enter was plainly the key weapons compartment governing one of the main cannon!
Should that weapons compartment be wrecked, the relevant weapon programs would fail.
At the same time the like was happening in many places aboard this interstellar warship: some tens of crimson mecha squads advancing severally toward the key districts at every part of her.
Some had weapon modules for their object, some magazines, some the energy core.
And some had their object set straight upon the bridge!
The demon captain was in a running sweat.
He charged certain interstellar marines to go to the support; but plainly these marines, with only single-soldier combat equipment, could no way withstand these terrible red mecha!
Still less when by the present data these crimson mecha were T5-grade besides!
There was simply no stopping them!
And because it was moreover within their own hull, their fighting was cramped at every turn.
"Support! Request support at once!" the demon captain roared.
The communications officer beside him, beads of sweat upon his brow, looked at the captain in his alarm. "Captain, our communication equipment seems to be under interference; beyond keeping communications within the ship as they should be, we cannot reach the other interstellar warships around us… still less… seek support."
At hearing this the demon captain slumped into the captain's chair, something near broken.
In this moment all within him was collapse.
He had never for a moment thought the enemy's means of this kind so terrible.
Through the viewport he gazed at that crimson giant carrier starship in the distance.
That one T5 carrier starship could so easily hold down — and shortly annihilate — three T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruisers.
"Marshal… what manner of terrible opponent have you chosen for us. Perhaps… we should never have come here at all," the demon captain muttered, all spirit gone out of him.
Of a sudden the bridge began to shake violently.
And from outside one would have found that a certain district of this interstellar warship had blown up — the task of the mecha squad that had entered there, presumably, being accomplished.
The like was happening upon the two T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruisers about her.
Commander Su Lan looked coldly upon these three quarries of hers.
And waited silently for their death.
The demon interstellar warships about them too had marked that all was not well with their own main-force ships, and tried to come to their support.
But the other fighters and drone swarms would stop them at any cost whatever.
These fighters and drones formed a terrible natural moat.
Which left the demon interstellar warships simply unable to support their own main-force ships, and able only to watch with their eyes open while their three T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruisers met with an assault they could not make out.
Explosions came without cease upon the hulls.
Upon one of the three, within a bare few minutes, unidentified black smoke and dust came pouring from the hull.
And when the outside sought to contact these three T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruisers, there was but one answer.
Which was that they could not be reached at all.
"One carrier starship, and it has utterly held down three T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruisers; this capacity for battle is far too strong." The high-order angel Berkeley marveled past all bearing.
As the Demon Race's opponents of a thousand years, they were of course exceedingly familiar with the combat parameters of the T5 Terror-Blade-class Medium Interstellar Battlecruiser.
This crimson T5 carrier starship had accomplished the feat of one against three without turning a hair — and plainly had strength to spare besides.
"Three pitiful quarries, being dragged step by step into the abyss of that crimson beast's vast maw," the high-order angel Jessie said, her expression grave.