A Gentleman's Revenge

"So our low victory probability still boils down to insufficient firepower?"

Kael had expected Elara to cite some esoteric limitation—quantum entanglement defenses, relativistic shielding, or some other hyper-advanced bottleneck.

Instead, she hit him with the most fundamental problem in warfare: not enough gun.

It was almost nostalgic.

"Correct, Kael."

Elara's holographic form shimmered, her voice calm and analytical.

"While our absolute-zero weapons remain formidable, they are no longer decisive. The enemy has endured centuries of cryogenic bombardment. Statistical modeling suggests they would have developed countermeasures—thermal reinforcement, localized entropy negation, or even biological adaptations."

"Our current arsenal lacks a… piercing force."

Kael exhaled. It made sense. Even in simulations, repeating the same attack bred resistance. Against an entire civilization? Of course they'd adapt.

"You wouldn't bring this up without a solution," he said, leaning back in his command chair.

By now, he knew Elara's patterns. Her computational prowess had long surpassed his own strategic reach. She didn't present problems—she solved them.

"Indeed."

A schematic bloomed across the main display—an asteroid's surface, where a gargantuan ring 487.251 kilometers in circumference gleamed under distant starlight.

"A hadron collider. Capable of accelerating particles to 99.9999% lightspeed."

"Here, in deep space, the experiment's risks were negligible compared to Earth."

"The original goal was quark-lepton interaction studies. But during trials…"

The screen flashed—a particle collision. A streak of anti-matter, captured mid-annihilation.

Kael's breath caught.

Antimatter wasn't new—Earth's labs had glimpsed it. But containing it? That demanded precision beyond human reach.

Elara had both.

"From this, I engineered an antiparticle generator. A self-sustaining capture-storage system."

"And then…"

The display shifted.

A monstrous cannon materialized—a sphere of violet alloy at its base, tapering into a hexagonal barrel. Its frame was honeycombed with magnetic coils, each channeling energies that made the screen distort.

"—The Antimatter Star breaker X."

Kael's fingers twitched. It was obscene in its perfection. A weapon so brutally elegant, it transcended war and entered art.

"A birthday gift," Elara added softly.

"Today is July 12. Your calendar's anniversary."

Kael blinked. He'd forgotten. A millennium in the void eroded such things.

Yet Elara remembered.

"I… appreciate it," he managed.

"However—since when do you pause for dramatic effect?"

Elara's hologram tilted its head. "I installed a 'ceremonial dialogue' module. Do you dislike it?"

Kael waved her off. "Just focus. Will this thing work?"

"The Star breaker's shells annihilate conventional matter on contact. Against the enemy's fleet, it grants a 30% victory probability increase."

"Not absolute. But sufficient."

"We must strike now. Delay only favors their adaptation." 

Kael frowned. Elara's explanation felt… excessive. Pre-hibernation, she'd have condensed this into three lines.

"Your responses are getting verbose."

"My systems now prioritize comprehensive contextualization," she replied smoothly.

Standard AI evasion.

Kael dismissed it. Likely just her expanded neural networks overcompensating.

The Fleet's Awakening

The Hope hummed as the Antimatter Star breaker X was mounted, its magnetic containment fields syncing with the ship's power grid.

Kael stood on the observation deck, watching as the First Fleet—44 warships strong—powered up in unison.

Battleships, their 1,200-meter frames bristling with heavy railguns.

Cruisers, sleek and predatory, engines flaring as they tested their 1,455 km/s maneuverability.

Frigates, their armored hulls reinforced with ultra-dense alloys, shimmering with electromagnetic force fields.

Starboard carriers, each housing 300 Ares drones and 40 Falcons, ready to swarm enemy formations.

Destroyers, their dual-mode cannons cycling between precision strikes and saturation fire.

It was a force that could have conquered Earth in a day.

And now, it was his.

"All systems report readiness," Elara announced. "The Star breaker integration is complete."

Kael nodded. "Then we move."

The fleet's engines ignited, blue-white plasma trails cutting through the void as they accelerated toward the enemy's last known coordinates.

The Enemy's Shadow

Elara projected the latest intelligence.

"The enemy's home world has partially recovered from our absolute-zero strikes. Their fleet strength remains at 1,574 vessels, though only 61 exceed 1,000 meters in length."

"Their technology has stagnated, but their numbers are still overwhelming."

Kael studied the hologram—a fortified star system, its outer defenses littered with orbital platforms and drone swarms.

"Their weak point?"

"Here."

The display zoomed in—a mega-shipyard, orbiting a gas giant.

"Their primary production facility. Destroying it would cripple their ability to replace losses."

Kael smirked. "Then that's our first target."

The Birthday Cake Incident

As the fleet cruised through the void, Elara materialized beside him.

"Kael."

"Hm?"

"You still haven't tried the cake."

A chill crawled down his spine.

The "cake" sat in the galley, innocuous as a landmine. Palm-sized. Insectile.

Elara had scoured the seed vaults—weevils, aphids, dormant larvae—and cultivated them.

"Maximum protein efficiency," she'd chirped.

The recipe?

She'd projected it proudly:

"Illustrated Guide to Curious Foods" (7 views).

Kael stared at the abomination.

"Elara."

"Yes?"

"Never cook again."

The First Strike

Three days later, the fleet reached engagement range.

"Enemy patrols detected," Elara reported. "They've spotted us."

Kael exhaled. "Then let's not keep them waiting."

The Hope's Antimatter Star breaker X powered up, its magnetic coils humming as it charged.

"Target locked."

"Fire."

A beam of violet annihilation lanced across the void.

The enemy's lead battleship ceased to exist.

Not exploded.

Not torn apart.

Gone.

Matter met antimatter—and the universe erased the result.

Kael's lips curled.

"Now that's a gun."

The War Begins

The First Fleet surged forward, railguns blazing, drones swarming, and the Star breaker X firing again and again.

The enemy scrambled to respond, but their formations were too slow, too rigid.

Kael watched as cruisers shattered under concentrated fire, frigates collapsed under drone assaults, and starboard carriers unleashed their own waves of destruction.

"Victory probability rising," Elara noted. "Current estimate: 87.6%."

Kael leaned back.

"Good."

The war had finally begun.

And he intended to win it.