The Rhytil Counteroffensive

The brief respite that the Alliance had earned from their victory at the Ghalan Belt was fleeting. In the war room of Lena's flagship, the strategic map displayed in front of her flickered as new intelligence rolled in. The Rhytil were preparing for a brutal counteroffensive—one that could destroy everything the Alliance had fought for.

Lena stood at the head of the table, her gaze fixed on the holographic display. Her mind raced as the data flashed across the screen. The Rhytil were massing their forces—far more than they'd expected. A large fleet was converging on their position, and the immediate threat was a complete annihilation of their remaining strength if they couldn't stop it.

"We don't have the resources to face them head-on," Tavon said, his voice tense. "Their fleet is larger than ours, and our defenses are still reeling from the last battle. If we stand our ground here, we risk everything."

Lena clenched her fists, her jaw tightening. She had seen this coming—the Rhytil would strike back with full force, but the timing of it still felt like a gut punch. She couldn't let fear or uncertainty dictate their response. The Alliance had already suffered too much, and retreat wasn't an option.

"What if we use their strategy against them?" Draven spoke up, his voice calm despite the gravity of the situation.

Lena turned to him, a spark of hope lighting up her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"We bait them," Draven continued, tapping his fingers against the table. "We know they'll come at us with everything they've got. But we're faster. We've got superior intelligence. We draw them in, hit them where it hurts, and then retreat, luring them into a trap."

Lena nodded slowly, considering his words. "It's risky. We would need to draw them far enough out that they lose their advantage in numbers. And we'd need to make sure that we're ready to hit them hard once they take the bait."

Tavon raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like a high-stakes gamble, but... it could work. We'll have to be smart about it, though. One wrong move, and they'll tear through us before we have a chance to regroup."

The room fell into a tense silence as the implications of the plan settled in. Lena knew that this would be the hardest decision of her leadership yet. The weight of her crew's lives—and the fate of the war—hung on her next words.

"Prepare the fleet," Lena said, her voice resolute. "We're not running from this fight. We're going to make them think they've won... and then we'll take them down."