Like an impenetrable wall, the enemies focused solely on deterring the progress of Gromov's group, denying access to the Q-Field carrier 1. Even though Gromov kept the majority of his vessels alive and kicking, Plantarians just outnumbered them, not leaving any opportunity to breakthrough.

The time was of crucial importance here. Nearing the zone with cruisers, the chances of crippling the waiting battleships thrived with each passing minute.

With no other option left, the C group had to search and probe patiently for weak points. Unfortunately, Plantarians realized as much, so they enforce the defense, carefully parrying each attempt of sneaking in.

The merciless clock ticking made everyone nervous.

"C4 here, I have a slight opening. Should I proceed, sir?"

"C1 here. Denied! Don't be reckless."

A suicide mission, no matter if ordered or volunteered, would only bring destruction to the attacker. Similar to C4, even Gromov was itching for action, for the stalemate got on his nerves. "What should I do?" he pondered to no avail. Dismissing scenario after scenario, he had to admit he was clueless.

"C8 here. Something's happening, sir. Three unidentified vessels emerged from behind the carrier. Cockroaches react as if under attack."

C8, the only spacecraft with a functional radar monitor reported hesitantly. If he misread the situation, the alarm could make the leader undertake an action, resulting in a debacle.

"C1 here. Understood. Keep watching them."

Under normal circumstances, Plantarians might try to lure them by causing a ruckus, offering not-existent advantage or weakened spot, but such a tactic could hardly profit them.

Who are they? The most likely explanation was that forgotten remnants of A group made a comeback after being repulsed in previous encounters. They might even keep the radio silent on purpose, waiting for the right moment to perform an ambush, utilizing Q-Field as a cover.

But if this was a trap set by the enemy, then Gromov failed to see its point.

"C8 here. They seemed drawing back, sir. Four cockroach fighters on u-turns."

That settles it. If Plantarians really act like having a threat from behind, this was the opportunity.

"C1 here. All units. We are going in. Prepare to charge. C8, report the actual state regularly."

"C8 here. Understood. No problem so far. They keep retreating four vessels."

Small skirmishes turned into a full-scale battle. Gromov felt like an imposter when they had engaged in one to two ratio, like a swarm of wasps making the way into a well-protected beehive - but what else they could do?

To their surprise, Plantarians fell into chaos as if not sure whether to retaliate or step back.

Suddenly, on the radio, a voice sounded.

"A1 here. A5 and A7 follow. To all Space Force units, we are taking down the carrier. I repeat, taking down the carrier. The collision in ten, nine, eight..."

Major Milano, calm to the bitter end, did not miss a number. The explosion afterward cracked the space like a lightning stroke.

Two of the three carriers were out of the game.