On the drop deck of Macragge's Glory.
One hundred Space Marines waited for the drop command, surrounded by the humming of machinery.
The battle to clear the Plague Fleet was still ongoing.
From time to time, brilliant beams of light could be seen streaking across the cold, silent void of space, incredibly dazzling.
On the battlefield, the scene of some Plague ships breaking apart in flames and silently collapsing was also quite breathtaking.
With the flagship destroyed, the Plague Fleet's combat effectiveness plummeted, and they were being slaughtered by the Imperial Fleet.
Other warships were still pursuing those Plague ships attempting to resist or escape, further adding to their glorious battle record.
Macragge's Glory, however, gave up this excellent opportunity to gain glory.
Compared to ephemeral glory, Guilliman was more concerned about what was happening on the surface.
Those Plague Warriors were undoubtedly planning some terrible and evil ritual again.
Stopping them as quickly as possible would certainly be beneficial.
These one hundred Space Marines came from two different Chapters, forming a unique spearhead unit.
Guilliman was attempting to mix different Chapters together for combat, so they would no longer operate in the old independent, lone-wolf Chapter mode.
He intended to adopt a completely new system where these Chapters could fight independently during guerrilla warfare, but could also operate in large, organized formations like during the Great Crusade when gathered together.
In that case, he could deploy tens of thousands of perfectly coordinated Space Marines in certain large campaigns, crushing all enemies like a destructive force. And on specific battlefields, he could let the Chapters fight independently to increase efficiency.
Among the one hundred Space Marines, fifty were from the Ultramarines Chapter. They wore the deep blue armor characteristic of the Ultramarines, and the front row of Ultramarine veterans were even all wearing Terminator armor.
The other fifty were from the Aurora Chapter, a successor Chapter of the Ultramarines. Their armor was painted gray with blue accents.
This Chapter was not as wealthy as the Ultramarines, with only two or three veterans wearing Terminator armor; the others were in standard power armor.
On the deck, hundreds of tech-priests and servitors busily moved back and forth, preparing for the Space Marines' landing operation.
Space Marines in Terminator armor were conducting self-checks with the help of tech-priests to ensure their armor was functioning well, guaranteeing that their formidable combat power would not be greatly reduced due to poor maintenance.
Space Marines in standard power armor were equipping themselves with tall assault shields, assisted by armed servitors.
Standard power armor lacked the absolute thickness of Terminator armor, and in the upcoming aerial assault operation, the bulky assault shields would enhance their survivability in close-quarters combat.
With a rumbling sound, the elevator lifted the munitions stored on the lower deck up to the deck.
Chapter serfs in neat uniforms, assisted by servitors, distributed the ammunition to each warrior.
At the same time, all the Space Marines performed a final pre-battle check on their own and their comrades' armor and weapons.
The Chapter Chaplain strode among the ranks, listening to the warriors' oaths and sealing the oath papers onto their armor with wax.
With a hiss, a sacred, hot iron seal was pressed onto the wax seal.
Thanks to years of training, every member, whether warrior or serf, worked with perfect efficiency.
"Macragge's Glory has entered planetary orbit. The drop operation will commence in ten minutes."
This announcement was swallowed by the noise and clamor of the ongoing preparations, but it was not repeated.
The Space Marines' hearing was enhanced, and they had all clearly heard the command.
Immediately, a deafening horn sounded on the deck.
All the Space Marines and serfs stopped what they were doing, stood at attention, saluted, and looked with burning eyes towards the archway.
In their expectant gaze, a magnificent giant, clad in the azure Armor of Fate, strode forward amidst the blare of horns, followed closely by the Honour Guard.
The one who arrived was none other than the Regent of the Imperium, Lord of Ultramar, the great primarch of the Ultramarines, the Thirteenth lord Primarch - Guilliman.
Guilliman wore the Gauntlet of Power on his left hand and the Blade of the Emperor's Silence at his waist.
The power and will exuded by his every movement made mortals hold their breath.
"Are you ready?" Guilliman looked at the many Space Marines and spoke in a deep voice.
"My lord, everything is ready," the captain of the 1st Company of the Aurora Chapter said loudly.
"Ready to await your command, my lord," said Captain Sicarius.
The other Space Marines all stood ramrod straight, looking at Guilliman with awe and reverence.
Admiration shone like light on their faces, and they were ready to die for this great figure at any moment.
"Very good," Guilliman gazed steadily at all the Space Marines. "It is time to show these traitors the consequences of rebelling against the Imperium and humanity. The Imperium shall prevail."
The Space Marines roared, their voices drowning out all other noise.
A portion of the Space Marines, including Sicarius, were loaded into drop pods and launched like a scattering of celestial maidens towards the planet Salara by the catapults, descending to the surface like falling stars.
This was the Space Marines' most common method of deployment, fast, and upon landing, they could also utilize the violent impact from the high-altitude fall to deliver a bombardment to the enemy, inflicting initial damage.
Guilliman and another portion of the warriors would land via Thunderhawk transports.
Primarchs and Terminators were too large to fit into drop pods and could only be transported by heavy aerial vehicles.
Salara was already surrounded by a sickly green plague gas. The launched drop pods were like cannonballs, plunging into the churning clouds of plague.
"Forty seconds, prepare for combat!" Sicarius shouted, as the drop pod rapidly sliced through Salara's atmosphere.
The high-speed descent brought an incredibly strong rush of air, incredibly sharp, and even the thick walls of the drop pod could not completely block this piercing sound.
The other warriors did not respond, maintaining silence, keeping themselves in the best state of readiness at all times.
As the atmosphere became denser, the rocket boosters at the bottom of the drop pod also activated, releasing powerful thrust flames, accelerating the descent.
The high-speed descending pod vibrated violently, the interior gradually heating up, the immense friction converting into noise and high heat.
The entire drop process would not exceed five minutes, which included the time the drop pod spent traveling in space.
Once it contacted the target planet's atmosphere, the thrusters would also activate, accelerating the descent, dropping from high altitude to the ground in tens of seconds.
Dropping from tens of thousands of meters in tens of seconds, this method of deployment would undoubtedly be suicidal for other units; their bodies would simply be unable to withstand it.
But for Space Marines, it was not a major issue.
This method of deployment also demonstrated the power of the Space Marines.
Sicarius tried to control his emotions. All he could hear was noise; he could not see the enemy he was about to engage, nor could he see his comrades in the same drop pod.
He could do nothing until the drop pod landed completely.
Compared to this method of entry that plunged straight through the clouds, he preferred the surgical precision and swift assault of a Stormraven.
Guilliman's decision to deploy troops using drop pods also had a very valid reason.
Slamming Space Marines, hailed as the Emperor's Angels, without warning into the enemy's rear positions could cause a more destructive psychological shock, already gaining a three-point advantage in momentum.
With a booming sound, the drop pod's hatch blew outwards, and the restraints binding the Space Marines simultaneously sprang open.
They had landed precisely on a traitor artillery position.
The cultists, their faces and bodies tattooed with various blasphemous symbols, had not yet reacted to what was happening before they were thrown back by the massive shockwave caused by the drop pod's landing. Some cultists who were closer had their bodies directly explode, their flesh and blood scattering.
"For Guilliman!" Sicarius, activating his power sword and holding his bolter, let out a battle cry.