General Wendell's holographic image floated steadily in the air, his rock-hewn face showing no obvious emotion, only his sharp eyes narrowing slightly, as if assessing an ancient weapon of unknown nature, just unearthed.
"Good," he finally said, his voice as steady as a mountain, creating a slight echo in the bridge. "Since you are so confident, the logistics department will prepare everything for you according to the form."
Wendell did not lose his temper on the spot. As the Commander-in-Chief of the expeditionary force, getting angry over such a trivial matter was unnecessary.
If this eccentric "Helldivers Legion" could truly win impressive victories with such unconventional equipment, he would not hesitate to praise them; but if they suffered a crushing defeat, or even caused greater trouble, it would not be too late to hold a military tribunal and punishment then.
Not to mention, for an Astra Militarum legion, if they truly lost, he probably wouldn't need to bother with punishment himself.
"Then I shall, in advance, thank you for your diligent efforts in the logistics of our Helldivers soldiers," Ghostface bowed slightly. He had a peculiar talent; what should have been a compliment always came out with a subtle, almost imperceptible hint of sarcasm from his mouth, making it extremely uncomfortable to hear.
"Just doing my job," Wendell replied expressionlessly, clearly not falling for it. "If you truly wish to thank me, then deal with those xenos seriously on the battlefield. Now, follow the navigation beacon's instructions and enter the designated spaceport berth to dock."
With that, General Wendell's holographic image flickered decisively, dissolving into countless light points in the air, without a single superfluous word.
"I suppose we've successfully joined?" Ghostface turned around and spread his hands to the captain, who had maintained an attentive posture beside him.
"I suppose… probably, sir," the captain replied cautiously, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
"Ugh… this is too hasty," Ghostface couldn't help but complain. "The simplicity of this process is even more irresponsible than when my parents sent me to that private sanatorium."
To this remark, the captain wisely chose silence, his eyes focused inward, as if all his attention was concentrated on the deep expanse of stars ahead.
With no one responding, Ghostface immediately felt a wave of boredom. He idly paced back and forth on the bridge, his tactical boots tapping against the deck with soft "tap, tap" sounds. After all, he wasn't yet crazy enough to talk to himself and get excited about it.
Unfortunately, he was currently the highest commander, and according to the game rules, he couldn't just log off; he had to ensure his character was always online and maintain the body's health.
Fortunately, the wait wasn't long. Ghostface and his group seemed to have arrived at a good time; after only three days of real-world time docked in the orbital spaceport, they received their next orders: weigh anchor and set course for the Jersey Sector!
Ghostface immediately announced this news to all players on board. Instantly, many players who expected to see epic scenes of "grand battleships, star-sea bombardments" became excited, pouring from various parts of the ship to the bridge, eager to claim the best "viewing spots." The solemn and dignified bridge became as crowded and noisy as a marketplace, causing the dutiful NPC crew members to frown deeply and suffer in silence. But Ghostface didn't care, so they naturally dared not say much.
However, this situation did not last long. Soon, players more knowledgeable about the background story pointed out that this was the "Damocles Crusade" against the T'au, and the Jersey Sector was merely an outpost, not the core territory of the T'au Empire. There was a high probability there wouldn't be any decent space battles here. This news was like a bucket of cold water, quickly dampening the players' enthusiasm, and they soon dispersed, the bridge finally returning to its usual tranquility.
As it turned out, the players' predictions were correct.
When the massive Imperial fleet tore through reality, emerging menacingly from the bloody warp rift and descending upon the outer reaches of the Jersey Sector, the anticipated fierce resistance did not occur. The entire sector almost immediately returned to the Emperor's rule under the overwhelming shadow of the Imperial fleet.
There were two reasons for such smooth success.
Firstly, the Imperium was truly enraged this time. A border sector openly defying taxes under the influence of xenos had touched a true red line for the high echelons of Terra. For this, spurred by the Ecclesiarchy, the Imperium assembled a truly terrifying expeditionary fleet.
The ground assault forces alone included the Ultramarines, Scythes of the Emperor, Iron Hands, Black Templars, White Scars, and Raven Guard—a total of six renowned astartes Chapters! And behind them were twenty Astra Militarum legions from Cadia, Krieg, and even including an elite Storm Troopers. In the face of such destructive power, let alone a fringe sector, even a slightly weaker xenos civilization would be crushed instantly.
Secondly, the Jersey Sector was not considered the T'au Empire's homeworld. Only some T'au Empire diplomatic missions and commercial entities were entrenched here, with no organized military presence. The Imperial fleet's thunderous strike did not actually engage directly with the T'au Empire's armed forces.
However, despite taking the sector without bloodshed, the Imperial fleet temporarily halted its advance. The reason was simple: logistics.
To advance further into the T'au Empire's territory, the Jersey Sector had to be thoroughly transformed into a stable, reliable logistics base and forward staging point. Therefore, from a military perspective, a thorough cleansing of the "unstable elements" here was necessary.
And from a political perspective, daring to collude with xenos and openly defying taxes was no longer merely ordinary rebellion; the Imperium had to strike hard! With blood and fire, it needed to deliver an unforgettable lesson to the people here, and to all those who dared to covet Imperial territory.
Thus, the War Council convened on the flagship quickly made a resolution. The massive Astra Militarum legions would be deployed to various planets in the Jersey Sector to carry out the cleansing of all resistance forces, xenos sympathizers, and potential threats.
This, of course, included Ghostface and the Helldivers Legion under his command.
The landing craft made a heavy metallic thud, docking steadily with the spaceport's berthing area. The thick hatch slowly opened with a hiss of steam, revealing the brightly lit, bustling hangar outside. The soldiers of the Helldivers Legion—or rather, the players—began to file out, curiously observing their new surroundings.