บท 18: Chapter 18
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Roboute Guilliman, clad in his azure power armor, arrived at the command deck, closely followed by the Honour Guard, donned in Terminator armour.
Their massive steel bodies created an overwhelming pressure. Everyone on the command deck felt as if their hearts were tightly gripped by fear, finding it difficult to even breathe.
Every member of the Honour Guard was a veteran elite among the Astartes, each with astounding military exploits. Wearing Terminator armour, even more massive and heavy than the regular Space Marine's, their mere presence was oppressively daunting.
For a regular human to stand and converse before the members of the Honour Guard would require extraordinary courage.
"What's the situation, Captain Brehe?" Roboute Guilliman asked, his gaze landing on the seated captain at the helm.
"The enemy has gathered on the second planet of the Sarum system. From the markings on their warships and their other distinguishing features, we can confirm that our information was accurate - we are facing the Death Guard. Their fleet has been dispersed and, comparing their strength with ours, we should be able to achieve victory with ease."
The Death Guard, plague spreaders, cursed traitors, eternal enemies of the Imperium, unforgivable.
The Death Guard were once part of the Fourteenth Legion of the Imperium, led by Mortarion. They had made indelible contributions to the Great Crusade and the unification of humanity.
Toward the end of the Great Crusade, Mortarion led the Death Guard to participate in the Horus Heresy, openly betraying the loyalists in the Ithari system, allying with other traitor legions and carrying out a massive slaughter of loyalists, committing an unforgivable crime.
Later, when Mortarion led the fleet through warp space, he was betrayed by Typhus. Typhus murdered the Navigator, disrupted the ship's Gellar field, and left the fleet trapped in warp space where they were severely tortured by the Chaos gods.
Nurgle, the Chaos god of plagues, skillfully tamed Mortarion, a Primarch who despised sorcery and abhorred chaos, turning him into his own pawn.
Mortarion had been a Primarch who was extremely resistant to magic and chaos. Yet he was trapped in warp space, tormented by the plague to the point of unbearable pain, and was forced to pledge himself to Nurgle, one of the Chaos gods, representing plague, death, and rebirth, becoming one of the demon-ascended Primarchs.
A perfect example of a despised creepy uncle taming a recalcitrant Primarch.
Later, the fleet participated in the Siege of Terra, used the plague to break the defense of the Imperial Palace, causing massive deaths. After the failure of Horus, they split into several warbands, fleeing to the Eye of Terror and the edges of the Imperium.
Guilliman organized his knowledge about the Death Guard in his mind before addressing Captain Brehe again.
"I have no doubts about the outcome of the victory. I am more interested in the situation on the ground. What's the status there?"
"There's no feedback at all. All our outgoing communications have been intercepted, whether they're electromagnetic or astropathic, we haven't received any responses. I speculate that the enemy has taken control of the communications. If the situation is even worse, the astropaths on the surface have either been corrupted or they are already dead," Captain Brehe responded, his tone somber, the fury apparent in his remaining flesh-and-blood eye.
Yet another planetary massacre, with tens of billions of human lives harvested by the dark gods.
May the holy Emperor have mercy on these poor souls, welcoming them into His embrace.
"Perhaps there is still a chance, otherwise these remnants of Chaos wouldn't still be here," Roboute Guilliman said, looking towards the control console. Amid the mechanical hum, the carefully maintained strategium of the Adeptus Mechanicus was in operation. A series of data symbols and beams of light formed a tactical projection, clearly displaying the situation in the Sarla system and the power of the Plague Fleet.
Currently, all Plague Ships were located near the orbit of the second planet in the Sarla system.
"Let's hope so," Captain Brehak nodded.
"We need to attack, regardless of the circumstances, our aim is to annihilate them. If there are survivors, we will save them. If not, we will avenge them."
"Understood, sir."
The fleet, led by the 'Glory of Macragge', was rapidly advancing, with the second planet of the Sarla system growing larger in their field of view.
It was a green planet with glaciers at both poles.
The planet was primarily covered in grasslands and forests, with sporadic deserts interspersed. It was incredibly suitable for humans, holding high colonization value.
The planet housed six giant hive cities, one of which was incredibly large, covering more than twenty-six million square kilometers according to the gathered data.
The estimated population of the planet was well over fifty billion, of immense value to the Imperium.
Upon seeing the arrival of the Imperial fleet, the Plague Fleet reacted by forming a battle line, trying to intercept the Imperial ships.
Guilliman observed the changes on the battlefield; the enemy had three fleet groups, each severely lacking in coordination with the others.
A lack of trust was the weak point of the forces of Chaos. They usually fought in warbands, resisting unified command and distrusting other warbands.
When the distance was reduced to less than three million kilometers, both sides transitioned from the probing phase to intense close-range combat.
The Imperial ships launched batches of torpedoes and missiles in a fan-shaped broad distribution, forming interlocking lines. Tons of anti-ship cannon shells were also fired to cut off the enemy's maneuvering space.
Space battles were complex and variable, with combat distances stretching into millions of kilometers. This delay rendered torpedoes, missiles, and shells somewhat ineffective against moving ships.
Commanding such a battle required vast computational capacity to calculate the enemy's movement and the variables on the battlefield.
Guilliman closely observed the battlefield, not overlooking any small variables.
Before crossing over, he thought that torpedoes and missiles were useless in future space battles and that equipping energy weapons like light spears would suffice.
But witnessing fleet operations made him realize how naive his previous thoughts were.
Each weapon had its advantages. Missiles could automatically track and hit any location on an enemy ship.
The light spears had speed, but they were straight-firing weapons, making them easy to block.
Torpedoes and shells, as physical weapons, had great power. Their much-criticized slow speed sometimes became an advantage, increasing the enemy's computational load and making them hesitate to maneuver, for fear of a direct collision.
"Perhaps there is a chance for a turnaround; otherwise, these remnants of Chaos wouldn't still linger here," Guilliman mused, looking towards the control console. Amidst the mechanical hum, the cogitator maintained meticulously by the Mechanicum was operating, generating a tactical projection from a series of data symbols and light beams. It clearly displayed the situation in the Sarla Galaxy and the strength of the Plague Fleet.
At this moment, all of the Plague ships were located near the orbit of the second planet in the Sarla Galaxy.
"Let's hope so," Brehe nodded.
"We should strike. Regardless of the circumstances, they must be eradicated. If there are survivors, we will save them; if not, we will avenge them."
"Understood, my lord."
The fleet, led by the Macragge's Glory, was rapidly advancing, and the second planet of Sarla was becoming increasingly larger in their field of view.
It was a green planet, with glaciers at its polar regions.
The planet was primarily covered with grasslands and forests, with sparse deserts scattered across it. It was an extremely suitable planet for human colonization, with high value.
There were six massive hives on the planet, one of which was astonishingly large. Based on the data observed, it occupied an area of over 26 million square kilometers.
The estimated population of the planet was well over 50 billion, making it extremely valuable to the Imperium.
Upon the arrival of the Imperial fleet, the Plague Fleet reacted by forming a defensive line, attempting to intercept the Imperial ships.
Guilliman observed the shifting dynamics on the battlefield. The enemy consisted of three fleets, all seriously lacking coordination.
Distrust was the weakness of the forces of Chaos; they usually fought in the size of warbands, resisting unified command, and not trusting other warbands.
When the distance between them narrowed to less than three million kilometers, the two sides transitioned from a probing phase to an intense close-quarters combat.
The Imperial ships launched batches of torpedoes and missiles in a wide fan-shaped distribution, forming intersecting lines. They also fired several tons of anti-ship cannon rounds to cut off the enemy's maneuvering space.
Space combat was far more complex and variable. The vast distances of millions of kilometers meant weapons such as torpedoes, missiles, and cannon rounds had a significant delay, making it difficult to hit moving ships.
Commanding such a battle required massive computation power to calculate enemy movements and variables on the battlefield.
Guilliman scrutinized the battlefield, not overlooking any small variables.
Before he traveled here, he thought that torpedoes and missiles would be useless in future space warfare, and that energy weapons like lances should be sufficient. But after witnessing fleet combat, he realized how foolish his previous thoughts were.
Every weapon has its advantages. Missiles can automatically track and hit any part of an enemy ship.
Lances are fast but their attacks are straightforward. Despite their high power and speed, they are easily deflected.
Torpedoes and cannon rounds, being physical weapons, are not only powerful, but their slower speed could sometimes turn into an advantage, increasing the enemy's calculation load and discouraging them from making reckless maneuvers for fear of colliding with them.
The reckless sacrifice of the Plague Fleet, resolved to oppose the Imperium until the end, will not alter their impending defeat.
With the command of an original body, the morale of the Imperial fleet is tremendously boosted. The Imperial commanders strive to make no mistakes, not wanting to miss the opportunity to be noticed by the original body.
With high morale and a number advantage over the Plague Fleet, the Imperial fleet has a strong hand. To lose would be difficult.
The Chaos faction's fleet shows no signs of cooperation. Shortly into the combat, they are fragmented by the Imperial side, each ship left to fend for itself.
"Maintain course, destroy their flagship, and secure victory," Guilliman, watching the image of the Plague Fleet in the tactical projection, instructs. Among the Plague Fleet is a massive battleship, covered with filth and grotesque flesh growths. Numerous malicious eyes all over the ship watch the battlefield.
The ship has been thoroughly corrupted by the Warp, the flesh and filth providing damning evidence.
"Concentrate all energy on the forward void shield. The first and second battle groups, stop advancing and flank the Plague Fleet. Lock onto the enemy flagship for priority attack. Load all macro-cannons, max out the power of the lances, and fire the prow guns."
With Guilliman's words, the bridge of 'The Glory of Macragge' becomes incredibly busy. Technicians, supervisors, and machine priests start to move around, implementing the commands of the original body without fail.
The lower decks of 'The Glory of Macragge' are even busier.
Junior officers yell at the crewmen, occasionally brandishing whips or delivering a kick to those whose speed they find unsatisfactory.
Huge cranes rumble as they load shells, brought up by the elevator to the gun deck, into the macro-cannons.
Machine priests maintain the complex energy pipes and secondary cogitator systems, reciting prayers to the Omnissiah in binary, beseeching the sacred machine spirit to keep the ship running smoothly.
With Guilliman's command, the entire Imperial fleet accelerates for a final charge at the Plague Fleet.
Ignoring everything else, Guilliman focuses on the enemy flagship, searching for vulnerabilities in its void shields.
A battleship, with a length between ten and twenty kilometers, could effortlessly incinerate an unprotected world.
The enormous hull, besides carrying vast amounts of cargo, can also generate a much more robust and stable void shield.
The core of a battleship is hidden inside, protected by multiple layers of void shields and hull armor several meters thick.
Under normal circumstances, a battleship could withstand hours of bombardment.
However, Guilliman didn't want to wait that long. If a group of weak enemies could delay him so much, how could he punch the Chaos and kick the Orks?
Information gathered by the auspex and radar data flowed rapidly across Guilliman's pupils.
His speed of processing information was even faster than a blink of an ordinary human's eye.
A primarch could read vast amounts of information in a few seconds and make the optimal judgement.
Soon, the weak spot of the Chaos flagship surfaced in Guilliman's mind.
There, a portion of the void shield was flickering, indicating an unstable pulse regulation system.
"Target these positions on the flagship," Guilliman confidently ordered, his hand dancing swiftly across the datapad, activating holographic markers from the array of options.
Information on the flagship was processed by the cogitator, forming a projection. Several light points appeared on the holograph, signifying the weak spots of the Chaos flagship.
Related orders were quickly dispatched to the entire fleet via data-link, and a series of confirmations returned via the communications chief.
"The entire fleet has locked on to the target."
"Then attack and put an end to this space battle," Guilliman commanded.
The maneuvering Imperial fleet slowly tightened like a net, and overwhelming gunfire engulfed the Chaos ships.
Even the enemy flagship took successive hits, its shield generator flickering continuously.
Countless lances and torpedoes instantly covered the defenseless hull.
In the combined onslaught of countless nuclear warheads, macro cannon shells, torpedoes, and lances, the enormous flagship lasted less than thirty seconds.
A massive fire column erupted from the center of the ship. In the barrage, its backbone broke, and a second later, the reactor exploded, engulfing the Chaos flagship in a perfectly spherical miniature sun.
Standing on the bridge, Guilliman was momentarily blinded by the intense light, which quickly dimmed.
The viewports' light-control color filters on the command deck automatically shifted to pure black to protect the crew members.
With the flagship destroyed, the remaining Chaos ships no longer posed a threat.
Guilliman delegated the task of dealing with the leftovers to Brehus, and at that moment, footsteps approached.
Dressed in power armor, the lore master of the Aurora Chapter, Donas, approached Guilliman.
"Sir, we have detected anomalous fluctuations on the planet Sarum II. The veil between reality and the Warp is being weakened. The Plague Warriors are attempting to summon their allies," Donas reported.
"We need to hasten our pace, then," Guilliman considered the acts that the traitors might perform, acts too vile for ordinary men to endure. Just witnessing their unholy rituals could lead to contamination.
To summon demons from the Warp, they must carry out brutal, bloody sacrifices. Offering blood, pain, and souls would give these lifeless beings bodies to move in the physical universe, leading to massive human casualties.
"Prepare for battle. We need to descend and cleanse this filth," Guilliman declared, "I will make those demons regret and despair for coming to this world."
On Sarum.
Outside the Glirix Hive.
Gulro, staring at the last human fortress protected by the shimmering void shield, wore a disgusted expression. These stubborn humans, completely brainwashed by the Corpse Emperor, stupidly rejected the gifts of the benevolent father.
Gulro headed towards the ruins on the outskirts of the Glirix Hive. His swollen body strained against a Terminator armor oozing a foul liquid, and emitted a grating noise with every move.
If someone else were to witness this, they would fear the power armor would burst due to the bloated body.
Gulro's power armor was an old model from the time of Horus's rebellion when the Dark Mechanicus followers of Horus crafted a batch of superior new Terminator power armors.
After ten thousand years of decay, it no longer resembled its former glory; rusted and oozing a fetid liquid. But blessed with the gifts of Nurgle, it performed even better.
"They do not understand the benevolence of our father. Humans are always like this, narrow-minded, selfish," Gulro looked at the other Plague Warriors, who were also enormous, but he was always the biggest.
"Generosity is the mantra of our loving father Nurgle, he is so benevolent that anyone can receive his generous love by merely asking him, regardless of wealth, age, health or disability. Yet, these humans do not show gratitude. They worship the decaying Corpse Emperor and refuse to accept the true power of the Dark Gods."
"We brought them gifts, and they returned nothing, seeing us as enemies instead. I pity them. The son of that Corpse Emperor is here. To save these pitiful people from being further controlled by the selfish, cruel, and greedy Corpse Emperor, we need to launch the final attack, crush the fortress, complete the sacrificial ritual, and turn this world into our Father's Garden."
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