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SCL Chapter 67: They Came from the Void
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 03:24:13 +0000 UTC“Rory! Come fix the magnetic resonator!”
A deep, booming voice echoed through the vast open pit.
“I’m on my way! …Let’s hope the damn thing holds until I get there—hah, not likely,” Swann muttered, the second part more to himself than anyone else.
Just as he turned to walk toward the direction the voice came from, the old observation platform beside him—one that hadn’t moved in at least twenty years—suddenly lit up with a flickering red glow as if it had jolted awake.
Swann’s short but thickset frame lunged toward the control panel. He didn’t know what this meant, but he was sure it wasn’t good.
This observation platform had a history as long as the Swann family itself. It was connected to the earliest artificial satellite in synchronous orbit around Meinhoff, and relied on a somewhat primitive radar system to monitor space routes across the entire star system.
Normally, on certain days each month, the platform would project holograms of Kel-Morian cargo ships onto its display. These miniature-model-like projections appeared in green, marking them as friendly.
Back during the colonial era, the first settlers of Meinhoff used this platform to communicate with supply fleets transporting vital goods and mining equipment. It also had a secondary function—to monitor enemy fleets within the system—but it had never been put to serious use. After all, back then, Kel-Morian pirates were essentially 'their own kind'.
Swann hoped the ancient machine was just acting up again.
But that hope was crushed the moment he saw three Behemoth-class battlecruisers slowly gliding across the holographic display, followed by two more warships just beginning to warp in. Their forms were rendered in a threatening crimson.
The Terrans had arrived.
...
The mines of Meinhoff were connected by a labyrinth of underground tunnels. Iron tracks lined the paths, and magnetically levitated mining carts transported ore and personnel. Mining lamps and air composition monitors were embedded in the tunnel walls, while ventilation ducts funneled fresh air from the surface into the depths.
Here, the constant hum of the fans was as persistent as the sound of an electric drill—never stopping for even a moment.
At the same time that the observation platform’s red warning lights began to flash, a shrill alarm rang out deep within the mine. It was a sharp, grating, metallic screech that set one’s teeth on edge.
“Pick up your 'pickaxes' and 'shovels' and report to the nearest foreman. All mining supervisors, remain at your posts,” a mechanical voice echoed through the tunnels. “A Terran fleet is approaching Meinhoff, but we will drive them back!”
Swann considered retrieving the toolbox he’d brought down with him—but after a brief moment of thought, he chose his lunchbox instead, then climbed into his excavation mech with heavy, purposeful steps.
The mine wasn’t densely packed with workers, so Swann had to pilot his machine to the next shaft to encounter others. Still, knowing this observation platform was the family’s most valuable asset, he decided to remain here. Besides, he was genuinely curious about how the battle in synchronous orbit was unfolding.
The holographic projection above the platform flickered again, and then friendly green warships appeared—two Hephaestus-class Kel-Morian battleships, designed to counter the Terran Dominion’s colossal Behemoth-class battlecruisers.
These massive warships, each nearly 600 metres long, had been modeled after Dominion vessels, with similar silhouettes and bridge layouts. The key differences lay in their armament: more railgun turrets, more laser batteries, more missile bays, and more torpedo tubes. Some even carried electromagnetic jamming systems.
But like all Kel-Morian weapons and warships, these too bore the marks of hasty construction—visible seams and patchwork armor, with inconsistent materials and grades throughout.
In Swann’s eyes, it even looked like these battleships had been converted from Titan-class freighters owned by the Kelanis Transport Guild right inside the starport docks. That didn’t stop him from taking pride in them.
From the worn observation platform, one couldn’t see the battle firsthand, but Swann could picture it clearly: hangar bays flung open, Hellhounds and Sky Wolves pouring out in waves, clashing with the Dominion’s Avengers and their latest Banshee models.
The battleships opened fire at one another, orange-yellow laser beams and missile detonations lighting up the darkness of space.
Like the rest of his family, Swann was naturally impatient. Outside of machines and technology, he had little tolerance for anything else. His growing anxiety for the fleet showed plainly in the way his hands fidgeted without rest.
The Kel-Morian fleet was at a clear disadvantage. The Dominion had seven Behemoth-class and four Leviathan-class battlecruisers—an overwhelming force.
The outdated database on the observation platform could only identify the names of the friendly vessels and two Leviathan-class cruisers—both of which had appeared in the Dominion capital’s military parade over a decade ago.
No one on Meinhoff had expected war to reach this small mining planet with only a few million residents. And compared to other Kel-Morian colonies, Meinhoff was relatively close to their homeworld, Moria. Until today, it would’ve been unthinkable for a Dominion fleet to appear this deep within Kel-Morian territory.
Unless… the Kel-Morian front was collapsing. Unless their fleet could no longer control the widely scattered star systems.
Due to heavy interference, the holographic feed on the observation platform kept cutting in and out, becoming increasingly unstable. The broadcast repeated itself over a dozen times, yet Swann remained seated in his excavation mech, watching everything unfold.
The first ship to be knocked out of the battle was a Kel-Morian battleship. After a flurry of static and corrupted data, it broke apart into several large pieces. Some of its wreckage was pulled toward the planet by gravity, and like a shattered eggshell in slow motion, it drifted toward the edge of the observation platform.
How many people would die?
Swann found himself dwelling on this painful question. A capital ship typically carried between 1,000 and 3,000 fleet personnel. And while the vast majority of them were of Moria descent, he still felt sorrow for their fates.
Another Kel-Morian battlecruiser appeared to have been hit. Swann recognized the name of this ship—and knew it well. It had been built right here at Meinhoff’s starport, the only battleship this planet had managed to produce during the war. Most of its crew had been recruited directly from Meinhoff, including engineers from Swann’s own family.
Now, that ship was attempting to ram the Terran Dominion’s flagship—driven by despair and a desperate resolve to defend its homeland. It was a last resort, but a nearly impossible one. This wasn’t the sea. Space was a three-dimensional battlefield.
Kel-Morian battleships were slower than even the earliest Leviathan-class cruisers of the Dominion. Both Kel-Morian and Umojan fleets were at least a generation behind the Terran Dominion when it came to engine technology.
No miracle occurred. The battleship stopped moving before it could even get close to the enemy. On the holographic display, Dominion fighters and boarding craft had already begun to swarm the motionless steel behemoth—like flies gathering on a corpse.
It was over.
Meinhoff had no orbital defense platforms, no anti-air batteries capable of intercepting low-orbit enemy ships. These two battleships and their support fleet were the planet’s only defense in space.
Through Swann’s grieving gaze, three Behemoth-class battlecruisers broke formation and accelerated toward Meinhoff. Though he didn’t know much about tactics or military strategy, even Swann could imagine what was coming next.
The planet’s few military strongholds would be obliterated by nuclear strikes from high orbit, even before the Dominion’s ground forces set foot on the surface. Then, Terran Marines would land in cities across the world.
It was more beneficial for the Dominion to occupy Meinhoff than to destroy it outright. They wouldn’t raze everything. Their true targets were the mining companies and the massive stockpiles of Ardeon crystals stored in the mines and ports.
Even as fear gripped him, Swann couldn’t stop worrying about his friends and family in the New Apollon community.
According to union representatives, the Terrans were the worst of the worst—utterly wicked and irredeemably greedy. In the Koprulu sector, no one exploited their workers more than the Dominion. Terran laborers were routinely squeezed dry, while Kel-Morian workers had their rights protected by the union.
And that, in truth, was no lie.
Over the past decade, mining operations built on fringe worlds far from Moria had been seized one after another by the Dominion. In recent years, the Terrans had grown bolder still, even preparing to devour the mining industries deep within Kel-Morian territory.
If the Kel-Morian Combine chose to tolerate this and back down, it wouldn’t be long before Dominion encroachment pushed them all the way back to their homeworld, Moria.
To all Kel-Morians, the declaration of war had been forced upon them. They were fighting to protect the unions and mining corporations suffering under Dominion oppression. Nearly everyone was a member of the union—so in essence, they were all fighting for themselves.
Those three Behemoth-class battlecruisers loomed ever closer to Meinhoff, their dark blue hulls gleaming. Tiny specks, like glinting motes of dust, began falling from their bellies toward the planet—Terran drop pods and troop carriers, each packed with Dominion Marines.
After updating the observation platform’s database, Swann saw the name of one of the Dominion warships.
Iron Justice.
