The routine was brutally interrupted by a strident alarm that tore through the hushed silence of the bridge. The peaceful stars on the main screen were replaced by a close-up, shaky view transmitted by an observation beacon in orbit around a civilized world named Veridian.
It wasn't one of their colonies. It was an independent human world, recently contacted by Julius's scouts. A modest but prosperous hive city, scraping the sky of an agrarian world.
Now, it was burning.
Columns of black smoke rose from its lower levels. Explosions tore at its flanks. And everywhere, hordes of massive, green, screaming silhouettes poured into the streets like a flood of raw, violent lava.
"By all the hells..." growled Raynor, rushing towards the screen. "Orks!"
"Identification confirmed," announced Data, his voice as calm as ever, contrasting with the displayed horror. "Xenos species: Ork. Massive biological signatures. Threat level: Extreme. The hive city is undergoing a full-scale ground assault."
The images were nightmarish. Orks, large as ogres, brandishing roaring axes and cobbled-together guns, smashed through armored doors. Their guttural laughs and cries of "WAAAGH!" could even be heard through the degraded transmission. The human defenders, militiamen equipped with basic lasguns, were being cut down, their shots barely able to slow the green tide.
"They won't hold for an hour," Nova diagnosed coldly. "Their defenses are designed to contain riots, not an Ork assault."
Julius stood up, his dark blue helmet already in hand. Every trace of his solitary melancholy had vanished, replaced by a steely coldness. His fists were clenched, and the psionic flame within him, long contained, suddenly roared, eager to be unleashed.
"This," he said in a low voice that carried across the bridge, "is the true face of this galaxy. Not tinkering monkeys or wary survivors. Pure violence. An infection that knows only war."
He placed the helmet on his head. The mental silence settled, channeling his rage into a sharp weapon.
"They think they are the ultimate predators. They are about to discover that we are the hunters."
He turned to his crew, his gaze sweeping every face.
"Data, general order to the entire fleet. Veridian is now a war zone. Absolute priority. Raynor, prepare the shock companies. Marines, Firebats, Goliaths. Nova, your Ghosts target the Warbosses. Tosh, I want their WAAAGH! to turn against them. Confusion, fear, whatever you have."
His eyes fell on the screen, on the dying city.
"They came for a fight? Fine. Let's go to war."
The Conqueror's Star veered sharply, its engines roaring at full power. In its wake, the Battlecruisers, Valkyries, and Dropships fell into combat formation. This wasn't a rescue mission. It was a counter-attack. A demonstration of force.
As the flagship rushed towards the nearest jump point, Julius felt a strange sense of fulfillment. Loneliness, boredom, the complexities of diplomacy... all of it was swept away. Faced with the absolute brutality of the Orks, there was only one possible response. A response he was now, fully, equipped to give.
Peace was a distant dream. War was the reality. And Julius Braveheart was going to excel at it