"Eirenne," he said. "Mark the forced labor sites. Send evacuation paths through local channels if you can do it without exposing us. If any groups can reach the depot before we leave, take them. If they can’t, leave false orders that push them away from Kharov security zones."

Vaeren lowered his head slightly after hearing that. "That is enough for now."

It wasn’t enough in the larger sense.

Aurelian knew that.

Everyone here knew that.

But this wasn’t a liberation campaign. It was a raid, and raids had limits. He wasn’t going to lie to himself about what they could and couldn’t do today.

The loading continued for most of the day.

Longer than he preferred.

Still inside the safe window Eirenne had estimated.

The other Kharov forces were finally trying to react properly, but they were still too slow and too confused.

One fleet had started moving toward the mining sector, but from the wrong direction and without clean coordination.

Another force stayed near one of the inhabited worlds because they believed the attack there might be the real target.

The research-station fleet locked itself into a defensive position and refused to move until higher command confirmed the situation.

Higher command was currently drowning in bad information.

Eirenne almost sounded offended by how easy some of it had become.

"Their coordination is poor," she said.

"They are used to applying pressure," Aurelian replied. "Not fighting under it."

"That is obvious."

By the time the transports finished loading, the depot had lost everything Aurelian believed was worth taking.

They didn’t empty the place completely. That would have taken too long and created unnecessary risk. But they took enough to make the damage hurt.

Fuel reserves.

Refined materials.

Military spare parts.

Mining drones.

Compact industrial machinery.

Research containers.

Neutral goods purchased through trade channels.

Everything useful was cataloged and loaded.

Nothing was wasted.

Before they pulled out, Eirenne handled one last task.

She left behind false traces across the damaged depot systems, enough to push investigators toward the wrong conclusion.

Fake pirate signatures. Raider-style route markers. Corrupted traffic patterns. Not too dramatic and not so clean that it looked staged.

No skulls. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Just enough bad information to waste Kharov’s time.

Rhoswen still looked disappointed by that.

Aurelian ignored her expression completely.

"Withdrawal formation," he ordered.

The fleet immediately began pulling back.

Solenne’s aircraft returned in controlled waves, damaged craft landing first for fast refueling or temporary repair.

Rhoswen and Lysara stayed toward the rear, covering the withdrawal while the transports moved out ahead.

Neris kept the supply network stable, and Eirenne’s sub-core continued feeding false movement reports into Kharov systems for as long as possible.

Behind them, the mining depot burned.

The Kharov fleet assigned to defend it finally corrected course, but too late to matter. By the time their lead ships reached proper sensor range, Aurelian’s force was already moving toward the hidden exit path.

"They have visual tracking now," Lysara reported.

"Let them," Aurelian said. "They won’t catch us."

And he was right, as even though the Kharov tried, they were unable to get hold of their trail.

Several ships pushed forward on hard conventional burn, throwing damaged warnings through unstable communication lines while trying to form a pursuit pattern.

On the tactical display, it looked aggressive, but in reality, it meant nothing because they were too scattered.

And too far behind.

Solenne gave them one final reminder of that.

A rear strike wing broke away briefly and slammed into the lead pursuit ships before they could stabilize.

Two vessels were disabled almost immediately, and the rest scattered apart rather than continue the chase.

After that, the pursuit died.

The Kharov ships slowed and regrouped around the damaged survivors instead of continuing forward.

The fleet entered the return path toward Mournveil.

Only then did Aurelian finally review the full operation summary.

Two garrison fleets were crippled.

Military docks destroyed.

Mining operations heavily damaged.

Large amounts of material captured.

Neutral merchants were contained rather than looted.

Kharov communications still unstable.

No major losses.

It was better than expected.

Solenne had burned through an enormous amount of ammunition, though that was always going to happen in a carrier-heavy operation like this. Continuous strikes, interception runs, and support coverage consumed resources fast.

Neris had held the logistics chain together well.

Rhoswen had caused less chaos than expected.

Lysara had done exactly what she was supposed to do.

And Eirenne had proven beyond question that bringing her into the March had been the right decision.

The raid still wasn’t fully over. They still needed to cross back through Mournveil cleanly, and Aurelian wasn’t careless enough to relax early.

But the hardest part was done.

Rhoswen’s voice came through the command link not long after, sounding entirely too satisfied with herself.

"So. Final target went well."

"It did," Aurelian replied.

"And we still should have used skulls."

"No."

Neris laughed quietly somewhere in the background.

Rhoswen sounded offended again. "You people have no vision."

"We have standards," Lysara said calmly.

"That is worse."

Even Solenne sounded faintly amused over the channel.

The mood across the fleet had changed since the start of the operation. Not relaxed, exactly, but steadier.

The opening strike had worked. The withdrawal was working. The Kharov response had broken apart exactly as Aurelian had hoped it would once Eirenne started tearing holes in their coordination.

Now the fleet only needed to get home.

Aurelian stood near the forward display and watched the long-range readings as the ships moved away from the burning sector behind them.

The depot fires were still visible even at a distance, scattered lights across the dark, while damaged ships drifted around the ruined docks.

They hadn’t conquered anything.

That had never been the goal.

They hadn’t stayed long enough to get trapped trying to hold territory they couldn’t defend either.

They came in fast.

Hit hard.

Took what mattered.

Left before the enemy recovered.

That was the kind of warfare the Crownward March could afford right now, and for the moment, it was enough.

The hidden route toward Mournveil opened ahead of them again, dark and quiet compared to the chaos behind.

The fleet slipped toward it in formation, carrying stolen supplies, captured resources, and the damage they had left behind.

And somewhere deep inside Kharov space, commanders were still trying to understand what had actually hit them.