The enemy moved first, deploying precision strikes to disable propulsion systems, aiming to stall the Qajar advance. But as the first volleys struck, their impact shimmered uselessly across Qajar hulls. The crystalline armor—harvested from the deep vaults of Iskrah—absorbed the kinetic and energy signatures, pulsing briefly before dispersing the force harmlessly across the ship’s lattice structure. Instead of damage, the crystals pulsed brighter—charged. Enemy fleets expected stalled targets. What they met were warships accelerating, their systems overclocked by the very energy meant to cripple them. At the borders, strike craft were met with more than resistance—they encountered disruption fields seeded with crystal pylons, scattering targeting data and corrupting comms. Fighters broke formation. Invasion drop pods lost orientation. Qajar anti-air emplacements, reading the energy distortion patterns, struck with ruthless precision, turning chaos into clean kills. Meanwhile, what appeared to be retreats were silent maneuvers. Enemy formations surged into apparent openings—only to find themselves chasing ghost signatures mirrored by reflective crystalline drones. Their encirclement tightened around nothing. The real counterstrike came from above and below—Qajar warforms, cloaked by crystal-folded light, flanked the overextended enemy. From their shadows emerged phase-cruisers, piercing command lines and rupturing coordination. Reinforcements sent to support the assault found their hyperspace lanes collapsing, distorted by crystal interference nets seeded long before the first shot. In less than an hour, the offensive turned. What began as a bold advance collapsed into disarray. The enemy's engines burned. Qajar fleets surged forward—silent, precise, and glowing with the stolen power of their foe.
ENCIRCLING THE ENCIRCLERS!? HAH! VERY SMART! WUNDERBAR!!1!1!1
