Aurora's Frontier (Another Worldly Summons Sequel)

Chapter 2

ASEAN 92nd Orbital Fleet

In the weightless expanse of space, 37 massive saucers anchored to a large asteroid nearly a hundred kilometers in diameter, its surface riddled with camouflaged refueling stations and maintenance docks. This was Support Base 482. The asteroid had been hollowed out and fortified, serving as a hidden bastion for the fleet.

Presently, the fleet was on standby orders after completing a raid on a Xalorian space colony. The raid had involved launching a massive volley of missiles and slugs, ensuring the colony's destruction. Their primary goal had been to cripple all potential bases and defensive positions that the Xalorians could use, regardless of whether these were military installations or civilian structures.

Within the asteroid's interior, activity buzzed as crews worked tirelessly to refuel and repair the SHLs. Engineers inspected damage, replenished munitions, and ran diagnostics to ensure everything was in top shape for the next mission.

Commander Arthit stood in the command center, his eyes scanning the video feeds that displayed real-time updates of the fleet's status. "The last raid was a success," he said, his voice calming and unexpectedly soft for a commander, almost feminine. "We hit their colony hard. It's unsalvageable by this point."

"Wouldn't it be better to give the order for a finishing blow?" asked Lieutenant Seran, a keen-eyed officer overseeing the repairs.

"Doesn't suit my taste to shoot them one-sidedly," Arthit replied.

"We're doing it on a weekly basis," Seran retorted.

"Don't be a killjoy. They're going to die a slow and painful death in a stricken colony riddled with holes, you know."

"That's not the problem, it can be repaired," Seran insisted.

"Sure," said Arthit, "assuming they still have the resources and time to do so. And if they do, we can use it as bait to nuke the repair crews they send to rebuild it. They wouldn't put escorts or heavily defend it either; it's a liability at this point."

"Alright," Seran said, stopping her pursuit of the commander's choice. "How long until the fleet is fully resupplied again?"

"At this rate, we'll be ready to move in once 892 and 1142 have completed their resupply," replied one of the logistics officer. "The base's resources are sufficient to support our needs, and our crews are working around the clock. But the next resupply might be short; we're not the only ones resupplying in this remote place, after all."

Arthit nodded. "Good. Whether there's a short supply or not, we can't afford any delays. We'll hit those lizards harder than a capitalist banging the people hard."

As the preparations continued, each crew member moved to their task. In the cold vacuum of space, their hidden base provided a strategic advantage, allowing them to strike swiftly and then retreat to safety for resupply.

"Talk about capitalists... War is business for sure," Arthit muttered to himself, echoing the chief's words from the assembly hangar. "And our business with them is still far from over."

An hour later...

All of the ships of the 92nd Orbital Fleet formed up, an ununiform formation per se. Some tilted, not in line or barely in line. Arthit glanced at his watch to check the time. "Okay," he uttered as he opened the comms. "Our next target is a moon riddled with lunar cities. MIRVs are useless over them, so nuclear missiles are needed for their destruction. Also, we are imposing a temporary no-fly zone as we conduct our military operations, which means we'll shoot down all floating crafts over and in the proximity of the target location. Everyone should have already been briefed, but I'm iterating it once more. We're expecting similar results: blowing the shit up, torching these lizards, and leaving before they can actually put up proper resistance or request reinforcements. That's the routine we'll follow. Understand?"