Chapter 164: Going All Out! |
After a brief period of strategic planning, the Expeditionary Fleet was ready to depart.
In addition to the original forces gathered from various factions, five Battleships of different classes, twenty-six Cruisers, several Frigate squadrons, and ten regiments of the Guard Militant had been integrated into the Expeditionary Fleet.
With the brief pre-battle preparations complete, the Emperor-class Battleship Dawnlight let out a thunderous roar. The massive fleet swiftly set off, traversing the Warp along a radiant path carved through the encroaching storms.
——
Bork'an System, Mandeville Point.
Roughly four days later, a ripple disturbed the Galactic Edge. A massive purple vortex tore open in the void, gaping like a cosmic wound.
The Expeditionary Fleet tore through the veil of reality. Armored bows pierced the dimensional barrier first, their colossal hulls gleaming with a cold, metallic luster under the starlight.
Beneath the bridge's Dome, Holographic Projections cast an ethereal blue glow into the air. Crew members hurried between the arrays of Cogitators, executing the standard post-translation protocols after exiting the Warp.
Romulus ran his slender fingers rapidly across a holographic console, carefully reviewing the fleet's operational status.
The Shipboard Auspex of an Emperor-class Battleship was formidably powerful, with a significant portion of the vessel's mass dedicated purely to enhancing this function. The moment the ship entered the star system, she had already locked onto her enemies.
"According to Imperium standards, this Sector contains twelve Cruisers, four to five hundred raiders, and five Xenos Orbital Defense Fortresses. Initial assessment indicates a planetary defense fleet,"
Captain Aurora swiftly confirmed the targets' identities. Her sharp gaze swept over the tactical screen as the T'au Empire vessels were instantly projected onto the Tactical Sandtable.
The Holographic Projections around the sandtable marked the enemy fleet's positions with glowing crimson dots, glaringly prominent in the dimly lit bridge.
Observing a fleet of this meager scale, the commanding Military Officers could not help but share a confident, victorious smile.
A safe and uneventful journey through Warp Travel was undoubtedly cause for celebration, imbuing the crew with an unprecedented surge of morale.
"Sound the Combat Alert. Seize their flanks,"
Romulus ordered without hesitation. His fingertips danced across the holographic tactical table, adjusting the fleet's formation, while Rameses's psychic Prophecy flowed into the system like a steady stream, bearing omens of what was to come.
The T'au Empire's response was equally swift.
The Expeditionary Fleet had barely moved thirteen void-units from the Mandeville Point before the scattered patrol fleets, reacting like a disturbed hive, rapidly converged toward the central Starfort.
The Xenos species' communication network was highly efficient and precise. Every warship's trajectory was flawlessly calculated to weave a tight, unyielding defensive net.
The technological level of the T'au Empire was far from poor. In fact, having only encountered humanity a few decades prior, they were currently riding the crest of their first major wave of technological breakthroughs.
Though their fleet size was still somewhat immature, the sheer firepower of their vessels could not be underestimated.
Born from an excellent trajectory of technological development, coupled with a fair bit of luck, the T'au Empire's advancements in fields like Energistics and Artificial Intelligence did not lag far behind the dominant powers of the galaxy.
Whether it was their Super-heavy Ion Cannons—weapons possessing destructive yields that could even surpass Imperial Lances—or their AI-assisted Torpedoes capable of executing pinpoint saturation strikes, their ships held a significant advantage in long-range fire projection.
Hum—
A faint blue light rippled across the Super-heavy Ion Cannon arrays on the surface of the Starfort. Energy coalesced within the barrels, emitting a deep, resonating thrum.
Then, guided by the exact calculations of their AI systems, countless azure torrents locked onto every enemy vessel, unleashing an evenly distributed barrage of devastating firepower.
Simultaneously, the Missile Bays opened wide. A dense swarm of warheads howled through the void. Steered by the AI, they nimbly evaded the interception fire of the point-defense turrets, plunging toward the Expeditionary Fleet like a plague of locusts.
Faced with such a fierce assault, the Expeditionary Fleet's response was—
To ignore it completely.
Yes, completely ignore it.
What was there to fear? Against Battleship-grade void shields, the T'au's current level of firepower—which was far from the super-enhanced versions they would develop centuries later—could do little more than serve as a novel real-space delivery for the Daemons lurking in the Warp.
The current T'au Empire had yet to fully grasp the operational mechanics of void shields. Their weapon systems still primarily relied on Hyper-velocity Kinetic Strikes.
Those precision-guided Torpedoes controlled by AI were more akin to smart missiles than traditional munitions. The instant these weapons made contact with the void shields, they triggered fleeting ripples across the energy barriers before being utterly annihilated, vanishing without a trace.
The large Cruisers, equipped with overlapping void shields, acted as mobile fortresses, steadily absorbing the concentrated firepower on the fleet's perimeter.
As the distance continued to close, the Imperium fleet finally bared its fangs.
Engines pushed to maximum output violently accelerated the previously slow-moving armada.
Gunners hovered their fingers over the firing levers, while tactical officers locked their eyes on the rapidly shifting distance readouts. The moment the numbers crossed the critical threshold—
"Fire!"
The T'au ships clearly had not anticipated the Imperium fleet possessing such astonishing acceleration capabilities. By the time they attempted to pull away and create distance, the Expeditionary Fleet had already plunged straight into their ranks.
The furious roar of the Macro-cannons vibrated silently through the vacuum. Although the solid kinetic shells were somewhat deflected by the Grav-Shields, at such point-blank range, even the redirected munitions violently tore through the fragile armor of the T'au vessels.
Deadly blossoms of fire erupted continuously across the void. The Air Caste operators struggled in vain on their bridges; their bodies contorted and spasmed in the depressurizing environment before ultimately freezing into solid, statuesque corpses.
As the main fleet calmly plowed through the wreckage of the planetary defense force, the ornate armor of the outer Cruisers bore only a few insignificant scratches, shimmering with a faint metallic luster beneath the starlight.
Such a catastrophic outcome plunged the T'au fleet into temporary chaos. Their once-orderly formations suffered visible disruptions, and a few surviving warships began executing uncoordinated turns.
The Starfort within the Orbital Defense Fortress network desperately attempted to rally the remnants, but its operators were horrified to find their control terminals flooded with cascading gibberish. Their fingers tapped frantically, but uselessly, against the consoles.
The system had been breached.
This was a classic Aeldari method of electronic warfare, effectively the Aeldari equivalent of Chaos Malware.
To the low-level Artificial Intelligence of the T'au, which was still in its developmental infancy, this malicious code from an ancient race was nothing short of an overwhelming, multidimensional strike.
"I knew it. The T'au merely have dim presences in the Warp; they aren't true Soulless Ones. There's no way their equipment would be completely immune to psychic interference,"
Romulus smiled upon receiving the results of Rameses's psychic interference, tapping his finger on the tactical panel to confirm.
He then looked up, his gaze sweeping over the busy Military Officers on the bridge. His voice quickly echoed across the comm channels:
"This is the Dawnlight. Initiate boarding operations on the Xenos Starfort. Commence intelligence gathering."
The fleet's objective was crystal clear: seize the Undercurrent Module technology and secure a complete Star Map of the T'au Empire's territories.
These two prizes—especially the former—would dictate the subsequent strategy of the Wings of Dawn.
"Understood, Lord Romulus."
Outside the viewports, the void shields continued to faithfully discharge their duties, shunting all incoming fire directly into the Warp. Ripples cascaded across the energy barriers, absorbing the destructive onslaught as effortlessly as an invisible ocean swallowing raindrops.
On the other side of the Warp, countless Daemons were left utterly bewildered by this sudden gift. They soon let out furious roars, yet upon glancing toward a certain forbidden sanctuary within the Immaterium, they shrank back in cowardice, entirely powerless to retaliate.
Grand Marshal Ledodes responded promptly. His towering frame already stood before the Stormbird's assault ramp, the Templar heraldry on his power armor gleaming brilliantly under the golden interior lights.
He raised his power sword high, his voice booming across the comms like thunder:
"Black Templars, move out!"
The Champions and Priests of the Expeditionary Fleet quickly poured into the Stormbirds.
In contrast, the boarding methods of the other Space Marine Chapters were far more direct.
Tyberos stood on the launch deck of the Eternal Crusader, watching as the Stormbirds shot out of their bays, transforming into streaks of light hurtling toward the enemy ships.
He turned his head, glancing at his Chief Librarian who was still conversing in hushed tones with an Aeldari mentor. The vocalizer at his throat emitted a low, meaningful growl.
"Kahurangi."
The Chapter Master of the Devouring Sharks was well aware of the transmigrators' intentions.
Thus, ever since the expedition launched, he had deliberately downplayed his Chapter's presence, allowing these warriors from an ancient era to forge stronger bonds with the Black Templars and other forces.
After all, aside from occasionally returning to plunder supplies and gorge themselves, the Sharks had a rather limited understanding of the Imperium's current state. Beyond their formidable Combat Power, there was genuinely little else they could offer.
But this by no means meant he would pass up an opportunity to butcher Xenos and heretics.
The Expeditionary Fleet had established a clear KPI system: by slaying a specific quota of enemies, they could directly exchange their tallies for additional weapons and wargear from the Wings of Dawn.
Tyberos calculated that his brothers in the Outer Dark were still waiting for him to bring back gifts. Furthermore, the Chapter's upcoming expansion plans required a massive influx of Artificer-grade Equipment for support.
Who would ever complain about having too much premium wargear?
"Almost ready,"
Kahurangi's breathing was slightly heavy, the psychic runes glowing in his eyes flickering on and off.
After repeatedly utilizing his Prophetic Gift to verify the safety of the spell, his perpetually taut nerves relaxed a fraction. A brilliant psychic glare abruptly flared from his eyes, piercing the air like lightning.
In the blink of an eye, thirty-nine Devouring Sharks warriors vanished from the deck, materializing with flawless precision inside the Starfort.
No warning. No deviation.
The Chief Librarian slowly scanned his surroundings. Upon confirming that not a single battle-brother was embedded in a bulkhead or lost to a teleportation error, his tense shoulders finally slumped. The servo-motors of his power armor hissed, venting pressure as if exhaling a sigh of relief.
'Monk—Kahurangi, you should trust me a bit more.'
The voice echoing in his mind carried a distinct tone of exasperation. The mental fluctuations of the Aeldari Farseer Apprentice felt exactly like those of an overworked tutor trying to guide an impossibly stubborn student.
Even after providing the flawless steps to solve the problem, the student stubbornly insisted on triple-checking the math using his own clumsy methods.
"Hn. I will try,"
Kahurangi nodded noncommittally.
To him, these devious Aeldari could never be trusted. If it were not for Lord Rameses's earnest explanations and personal guarantees, he never would have consented to these pedagogical trials.
However, the Aeldari's profound understanding of the Warp certainly had its merits.
At the very least, they would never have dared to employ Psychic Teleportation so brazenly in the past. The Warp Sorcery support provided by the Aeldari drastically enhanced their tactical flexibility.
The only pity was that these Spells were incredibly difficult to popularize. The Adeptus Astartes, even with their genetically enhanced brains, could barely keep up with the xenos' neural reaction speeds.
As for Mortals, with the sole exception of Biomancers, it would be immensely difficult for any ordinary human psyker to wield such Spells in active combat.
'I certainly hope you mean that.'
The Farseer Apprentice felt a sharp migraine building, suddenly seeing his teaching career as nothing but a desolate, dreary abyss.
Thanks to the exceptional efficiency of the Aeldari, the entire system of The Path, along with the cultural and technological data mastered by their Craftworld, had been rapidly compiled and archived.
Aside from a handful of erudite scholars who remained busy, the vast majority of the Aeldari suddenly found themselves with an abundance of free time.
Rameses, who did not consider himself some sort of tyrannical monster, briefly pondered how to extract further value from these aliens. After in-depth negotiations with the Librarians of various Chapters and the Aeldari Farseer Hektor...
He innovatively assigned Aeldari mentors to human psykers.
Personality clashes aside, these seers—capable of weaving dazzling psychic miracles even beneath the ever-watchful gaze of Slaanesh—were undeniably unparalleled masters of sorcery.
They were the premier private tutors of the Warp, offering one-on-one masterclasses.
As for safety concerns?
Rameses was more than capable of guaranteeing their security.
Not only did he personally monitor the situation, but strategic-level deterrents were constantly poised on the periphery. Furthermore, the neighboring exhibition zone had a looped educational warning video playing at all times—
Over in The Enclave, starving Slaaneshi Daemons ruthlessly tormented their dark cousins day in and day out, trying to squeeze every last drop of sustenance from the Souls of the Dark Aeldari. Amazingly, the Daemons never quite killed their victims, and their myriad methods of torture hadn't repeated a single time yet.
Moreover, for the Aeldari, being allowed to reside within Rameses's constructed Warp Sanctuary Zone was an absolute dream.
There were no prying eyes from Slaanesh here. They were free to build their ideal sanctuaries. As their teaching progressed, top-performing mentors would be given priority to expand their personal domains, earning even more customizable living space.
Under such utopian conditions, it made zero sense for them to be Stirring Up Trouble.
While Rameses had never fully grasped the alien thought processes of the Aeldari, he assumed they still possessed a basic biological instinct for self-preservation.
They were just being asked to teach. It wasn't as if they were forced into Engaging in Illicit Activities; they certainly weren't going to lose their lives over it.
And indeed, this was the case.
Within a specialized sector of the Warp, that same Farseer Apprentice looked around anxiously. His psychic senses clearly picked up the rising mental fluctuations of his kin. Their varied emotions—anxiety, resistance, sheer exasperation—rippled outward through the dimension.
His fingers unconsciously traced the gold-and-crimson patterns on his robes as he let out a long breath, faint motes of golden psychic dust dissipating with his exhalation.
'Praise the Lord of Pioneers, at least I am still alive.'
The moment that thought crossed his mind, the Farseer Apprentice could not help but smile bitterly.
Being a mentor to these Monkeys—no, Adeptus Astartes—felt like running along the edge of a boiling cauldron. One wrong step, and he would plunge right in.
Whenever he attempted to channel the Warp, the giants' scrutinizing glares felt as though they were piercing his very soul. They would painstakingly examine even the most minuscule psychic fluctuation, and more often than not, they would completely ignore his instructions anyway.
It would be fine if their methods were correct, but these Librarians were unfathomably reckless. Their techniques were so wildly unorthodox that it utterly terrified the Aeldari, a race supposedly specialized in mastering the Immaterium.
To borrow an ancient human analogy, it was like a master electrician watching an absolute amateur splice high-voltage wires together with bare hands—it was too agonizing to watch.
And this was the result after the Lord of Pioneers had already educated them. He shuddered to imagine how he would survive teaching remote courses to the Librarians who couldn't even pass basic remedial training.
The Farseer Apprentice raised a hand to rub his throbbing temples, his handsome features twitching so violently he briefly lost his composure. He finally understood the deep-rooted paranoia humanity harbored toward Xenos.
He kind of wanted to quit.
Gazing up at the swirling starlight cascading across the Warp dome, the Farseer Apprentice suddenly felt that the Pioneer's contract was exceptionally merciful.
If they were truly incompatible, peacefully terminating the contract was always an option. At worst, he would have worked a few months for free, which was infinitely preferable to being killed by Overly Suspicious students.
He then glanced at his peers around him, who were eagerly brainstorming and raring to go. And this was even after the Great Farseer had already drafted a sizable batch of them for Tyranid Psychic Research.
If he didn't want to do the job, plenty of others would gladly take his place.
Hastily adjusting his mindset, the Farseer Apprentice gritted his teeth and nervously resumed his instruction.
For the sake of rent, for the sake of more living space—he was going all out!